THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

Ex  Libris 

Catharine  F.  Richmond 

and 
Henry  C.  Fall 


.  fsoo. 


/r 

L/L  i- 


HERE   AND   THERE   IN   NEW  ENGLAND 
AND   CANADA. 


ALL  ALONG  SHORE. 


M.    F.    SWEETSER. 


PliOFl '.S'A'A  F    lL L rSTltA TED. 


ISSUED   BY 

PASSENGER  DEPARTMENT  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD. 
1  8  is  i) . 


COPYUIOHT, 

iss'j. 

DANA    .1.     FI.AMH.KS, 


HANI)    AVEUY    SUPPLY    f'O.,    BOSTON. 


F 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAGE. 

I.     A  FAIIJ  START  KIIOM  BOSTON- l.~> 

The  Kastern  and  Western  Divisions. —  How  to  Go. —  The  Suburban 
River. —  Soincrvillc. —  Chelsea. —  Revere  Beach. — The  Lynn  Marshes. 
—  Saugus. —  The  City  of  Shoes.  —  Xahant. 

II.       SWAMl'SCOTT 10 

Cool  and  Salty  Breezes. — Old  Times. —  Fishermen's  Beach. — Whale's 
Beach.  — Phillips  Beach.  —  Beach  Bluff.  — Clifton. 

III.  MAHBLKIIKAD 2:5 

Abbott  Hall. — Ancient  Mansions.—  Barnegat. — The  Fading  Dialect. 
—Allies  Surname. — Shoe-Making.— St.  Michael's. — Father  Taylor. — 
Yachtsmen's  Paradise. —  Lowell  Island. —  Marblehead  Neck. —  River- 
head  Beach.  —  The  Xanepashemet. 

IV.  SALKM  34 


V.     CAPK  Axx 43 

Beverly  Shores. — Montserrat. — Pride's  Crossing. — Beverly  Farms. — 
West  Manchester.  —  Manchester-hy-the-Sea.  —  The  Masconomo.  — 
William  Black. —  A  Fine  Memorial  Library.  —  Magnolia. —  Hunt's 
Studio. — Hafe's  Chasm.  -Xorman's  \\'<>r. — (iloucester. — Bass  Kocks. 
—  Kockport. —  Piiieon  (  \ive. —  Annisquam 

VI.     ESSKX  NOKTH  .  59 


VII.     NE\VIU  uvrour (><> 


IX.      I'oi: TS^IUC  i  n 


Strawberry    I'.ank.     A    Na\al    1'ort.— Hist 

the  Tmv  n  —The   1'nitfil  SlMif~   Na\y -^'ai' 


X.     NEWCASTLE 82 

Forgotten  Fortresses. —  The  Walbach  Tower.  —  The  Hotel  Went- 
\vorth.  —  Jaffrey  Point. —  'J'hc  IIomcH  of  Two  Poets. —  Bits  of  Sea- 
Song. —  The  House  of  Governor  Wentworth. 

XI.     THE  ISLES  OF  SHOALS 86 

The  Leightons. — An  Artists'  and  Authors'  Resort. — Views  of  Sea 
and  Sky. — The  Days  of  the  Pirates  and  Seal-Hunters. — Appledore. 
— Star  Island. — A  Vanished  Town. 

XII.      KlTTKKY  AND   YO11K 89 

Kittt-ry  Point.  —  Fort  McClary.  —  Pepperrells  and  Sparhawks. — 
Gerrish  Island. —  York  Harbor. — York  Minster. — Norwood  Farm. 
— Long  Sands.  —  Cape  Neddick. —  Boon  Island.  —  York  Beach. — 
Bald-Head  Cliff. —  AgaraenticuB. 

XIII.  WELLS  AND  KENNKBUNK 100 

North  Berwick.— The  Eastern  and  Western  Divisions. —  Wells.— 
Ogunquit. —  The  Elms. —  Kennebunk. 

XIV.  KENNEBUNKPOHT 103 

An  Ancient  Maritime  Village.  —  A  River  for  Pleasure-Boating. — 
Kennebunk  Beach. —  Cape  Porpoise. 

XV.       BlDDEFORD    AND    SACO 110 

The  Old  Industrial  Cities. —  Biddeford  Pool. — Fortune's  Rocks. — 
Goose  Rocks. —  Saco. 

XVI.     OLD-ORCHARD  BEACH 112 

Ferry  Beach. —  Ocean  Park.  —  The  Beach  Railroad. — The  Historic 
"Old  Orchard." — The  Days  of  War. —  Pine  Point. —  Scarborough 
Beach. 

XVII.     PORTLAND 118 

Munjoy's  Hill. — The  Bombardment  of  Portland. — K'amous  Natives. 
— A  Romanesque  Library. — The  New  Longfellow  Statue. —  State 
Street. — Cape  Elizabeth.— Casco  Bay. — Ciishing's  Island. —  Harps- 
well. 

XVIII.     BATH  AND  POPHAM  BEACH 127 

Farther  Eastward. —  Orr's  Island.  —  Fort  Popham.  —  Hunnewell's 
Point. —  Indians  j\s.  Anglicans. 

XIX.     BOOTH  HAY 129 

A  Charming  Voyage.—  Arrowsie.  —  Westport.—  Hell-Gate.  — Five 
Islands. —  Boothbay. —  Squirrel  Island. —  An  Archipelago  of  Sum- 
mer Delights. 

PEXOUSCOT  BAY 131 

The  Western  yEgean.— A  Battle-Haunted  Ray.— Camden.— Mount 
Megnnticook. —  Beautiful  Villas. —  Fort  Point. —  Castine. —  Dice's 
Head. 

Mor.vr  DESEIJT 137 

liar  Harbor.— Seal  Harbor. -.Vorth-East  and  Sonth-W.-st  Harbors. 
—  The  Coast  to  the  Kastward.— The  Norway  of  America.— Sulli- 
van.— Sorrento. — Winter  Harbor. —  Macliias. — ( 'utler. 

XXII.        1'ASSAMAO.rODDY    P>AY 143 

The  Frontier  of  the  Republic. —  St.  Andrews. — The  Algonquin.— 
A  Perfect  Yachting-Crnund. —  Campobcllo  and  Grand  Menaii. — 
Tlie  Remoter  Eastern  Coast. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE. 

BIKD'S-KYE  MAP  OF  BOSTON"  &  MAIXK  RAILROAD.     .     .   Frontispiece 

AlTOGRAPII    PoKM,    15Y    JoiIX    G.     WniTTIF-lt 12 

NAHAXT    FROM    LYXX. — CLIFFS    AT    NAIIAXT.  —  P.UKAKKKS    AT 

SWAMPSCOTT. — FlSIIKUMKX'S  BAY,  S\VAMPSCOTT     ....  21 
PKACII'S   POINT,  MARIH.KHKAD. — CHASM,  MARIJLKIIKAD  XF.CK. — 

TrcKF.u  HOUSE 25 

TCCKKR'S  WHARF,  MAUIU.KIIKAD 27 

Ix  AND  AROUND  MARIJLKIIKAD. —  MARIJLKHKAD  HARIJOR. — CACSK- 

\VAY.  —  Ix  Tin:  OLD   Kismx<;-To\vx 2!) 

FOI:T  SF.WAI.L,   MAIMII.KIIKAD :>() 

DISTANT  VIFAV  OF  MAKBLKHKAD  LIGHT :!1 

KASTKISX  YACHT-CLTH  HOKSK,  MAUULKIIKAD  NKCK ;>2 

SOTTH  Cni'KCii,  SALKM 

NOKTII  CuriK'ii,   SAI.F.M 

EAST-IXDI.V  MAIJIXF.  HALL.   SALKM I-57 

OLD  CrsTOM-IlorsK.  SALKM :!S 

OLD  WITCH  HorsK.  SALKM 'M 

WF.ST  M ANCIIKSIKI; 45 

MKMOIHAL  LIUUAKY.  M.VXCIIKSTKK-BY-TIIK-SK.V 47 

MAGNOLIA  KKOM  TIIK  NOUTH-F.AST 4S 

A    (il.IMPSF.    OF    (il.orCKSTKi: 51 

OLD    WlIAKVKS    AT    (il.orCKSTF.il T>2 

(JATK  Ilorsi:,  KASTF.KX  POINT.  GLOTCKSTKI: r>4 

THATCH  Kit's   ISLAND.  CAPK  ANN .">."> 

Dl'MMKU  ACADI.MY.   BYFIKLI) 114 

INDIAN  HILL.   NKWIU'KY (!."> 

CHAIN    I>i:ii>(;i:.   Xi:\\ 'itntYPOi:  r (!7 

BlItTHPI.ACK    OF     WlMTTIF.lt.     XKAIt     II  A  YF.lt  I!  I  I.I <!S 

LOUD  TIMOTHY   DI:XTKI:'S  HOCSK.   Ni;\\ T.citYpoitT ('.'' 

FIKST  IIori:i,  IN  AMKKIC.'A,   Xi:\\r.n:Y 7i> 

HAMPTON   MAHSIIKS ?."> 

TIIK   ISI.KS  OF  SHOALS.  —  WIIITK-ISLAXD   LIGHT 77 

Tin:  MOITII  OF   I'oi: TSMOTTH   HAKHOK. — OLD   Four  POINT  .     .  7!' 

PORTSMOUTH  ILvititou  FKO.M  KITTKKY  POINT  *<) 


CurRCH  HILL  AND  NAVY-YARD 81 

()M>  TUWKK  AT  NEWCASTLE,  Four  CONSITTCTIOX 83 

COTTAGE  AT  JAKKREY  POINT 84 

OLD  WEXTWORTII  HOUSE 85 

WHITE  ISLAND  KROM  STAK  ISLAND 87 

BARN  POINT,  YORK.  ME 90 

FORT    McCl.ARY.    KlTTK.RY    POINT 91 

YOKK  HARBOR. — -Tin-:  Nn$m,K 93 

EARLY  MORNING.     THE  XruuLK,  YOKK    BEACH 95 

UNION   BLCKK,  YOI:K 9(i 

KoAi:iN(;  HOCK. — BOOX-!SLAXD  LK;HT. — VIEW  rno.M  THE  ELMS, 

WELLS 97 

STOKM  AT  BALD-HEAD  ('LIKE 9s 

SALMOX-FALLS  BKIDOE 101 

BALD-HEAD  ('LIKE,  <)<;rx(jriT 102 

HOCKS      AT      KEXXEHrXKI'OHT.  FltOM      OCEAX      Bl.UEE      TOWAKD 

KEXXEIU'XKI'OKT.  —  Bl.OWIXd    CAVE,     KEXXEIH'X  K  I'OIiT       .       .  105 

THE  BKID<;E  EIJO.M  OLD  Sini'-Y AKD.  KENNEnrxKrouT.  —  KEXNE- 
isrxK    BEACH.  —  MOTTII   OK   KENXEISCXK    HIVEK.  —  Oi.D-Oi;- 

CIIAKD   HEACII 107 

()CKAX-VlEW  KKOM  ('AI'K.  AlM'XDEL.   IvEN  NEHCNK  1'OKT   ....  1011 

()LI>-()K(  IIAIID  BEACH 115 

VIEWS  IN   AM)  AKOIND  PoUTLAND 119 

UNION  STATION.   POKTLAND 120 

LOX(;EEI.LO\\'S  HorsE.    POKTLAND 121 

PORTLAND   I.H;HT     .     .     .      • 122 

WHITE  HEAD.    PORTLAND   HARIIOR 124 

OTTER  ('LIKE.   Mor.sr   DESERT 13<! 

CoiiA<ii:  AT  BAR   HARIJOR l:',s 

BAR   HARISOR   i  I:OM   BAR   ISLAND i:',9 

So.MES    SoTND 141 

A    LEAK  KROM   SKETCH-BOOK 142 

('HAMCOOK    LAKE.   NI:AI:   ST.   ANDREWS.    X.B 144 

AN   ARM   OK   PASSAMA<JCODDY   BAY.   ST.   ANDI:EWS.   X.B.    .     .     .  115 

TAIL-PIECE 14i; 


INTRODUCTION. 


HN  eminent  American  seholar  recently  said  (in  substance)  that  the 
Creator  is  making  no  more  Xew-En.sfland  sea-coast,  and  that 
the  shore  now  available  is  destined  to  attain  a  #reat  value 
as  the  best  rccrcation-iiTound  of  the  continent.  Happily  placed 
at  the  golden  mean  of  latitude,  between  the  heats  and  lowlands  and 
mosquitoes  of  more  southerly  shores,  and  the  excessive  cold  and 
bleakness  of  the  farther  north,  the  ocean-fronting  towns  of  New 
England  combine  in  themselves  the  most  desiderated  traits  of  popular 
summer-resorts,  and  are  visited  each  season  by  au.irineiitinj;  thousands 
of  pilgrims.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the  yreat  curves  of  the  coast 
of  Massachusetts  Bay  and  the  (iulf  of  Maim-,  which  are  so  closely 
followed  and  admirably  served  by  the  trains  of  the  Boston  &  Maine 
Kailroad  and  its  eastern  connections.  Everything  that  is  desirable  in 
sea-shore  life  may  In-  found  in  this  three  thousand  miles  of  northern 
sea-maririn.  leay'iie-lonir  beaches  of  shining  sands,  surf-beaten  cra^s 
and  promontories,  islands  far  secluded  in  the  bine  ocean,  harbors 
made  picturesque  by  irray  old  wharves  and  storm-beaten  ships,  famous 
sea-ports  once  rich  with  the  commerce  of  the  Indies  and  the  spoils  of 
privateering  Meets;  rivers  winding  down  from  far-away  mountains, 
or  cuttiiiii'  their  channels  through  sally  prairies  of  sea-meadows:  bays 
as  beautiful  as  Casco.  or  IVnobsrot.  or  I'assamaquoddy ;  and  noble 
landward  adjunct-*,  from  Beacon  Hill,  in  Boston,  to  the  famous  moun- 
tain-- of  ('amdeii  and  Mount  De^eri.  It  is.  moreover,  a  land  made 
consecrate  by  the  old-time  Puritan  heroes  and  the  .Jesuit  mission- 
aries; made  illustrious  as  the  home  of  Longfellow  and  \Yhittier. 
Ilawt lioriie  and  1'rescott.  and  many  other  masters  in  poetry  and 
literature:  and  made  romantically  interest  inn'  as  the  >ceiie  of  colonial 
wars  and  exploits.  Revolutionary  episodes,  and  tin-  ii'reat  deeds  of  our 
naval  and  mercantile  marine.  And  to  return  to  the  needful  and 
prosaic  demands  of  the  nineteenth-century  citi/en.  we  shall  lind  all 
alonu:  these  beaches  and  harbors  and  islands  summer  resting-places 
for  scores  of  thousands  of  people,  varying  iu  cost  ;md  e,iiui'ort  from 
I  he  four  dollar-a-d, iv  hotels  to  the  foiir-do||ar-a-week  farm  lioardinu'- 


10 

In  this  book,  an  endeavor  is  made  to  collect  a  few  picturesque  facts 
from  the  histories  of  the  coast  communes,  a  few  bits  of  legend  and 
poesy,  and  a  series  of  short  and  plain  descriptions  of  the  chief  places 
of  resort  on  the  coast  northward  from  Boston,  and  as  far  as  Passama- 
quoddy  Bay. 

The  present  little  volume  is  one  of  the  three  companion-books 
issued  by  the  Passenger  Department  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad, 
under  the  general  title  of  "  Here  and  There  in  New  England  and 
Canada."  This  work  is  naturally  divided  into  "All  Along  Shore," 
treating  of  the  beaches  and  islands ;  "  Among  the  Mountains,"  dealing 
with  the  highlands  of  New  England,  from  Mount  Holyoke,  Wachusett, 
and  Monadnock,  to  the  White  and  Eranconia  Mountains  and  Dixville 
Notch;  and  "  Lakes  and  Streams,"  devoted  to  a  consideration  of  the 
beautiful  inland  waters  of  New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Maine,  and 
especially  to  Winnipesaukee,  Sunapee,  Moosehead,  the  Kangeleys, 
Memphremagog,  and  the  far-away  Lake  St.  John,  in  Northern  Canada. 
Richly  bound  and  handsomely  illustrated,  it  is  hoped  that  these  books 
may  be  of  service  both  to  actual  travellers  and  to  people  who  are 
planning  for  a  summer-journey.  The  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad 
also  issues  a  little  book  devoted  solely  to  lists  of  the  hotels  and 
boarding-houses  in  each  of  the  localities  on  or  near  its  route,  rates 
of  excursions  and  circular-trips,  and  the  service  of  its  parlor  and 
sleeping  cars.  It  is  entitled  "Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  Summer 
Excursions."  With  this  practical  helper,  the  cost  of  an  eastern  trip, 
in  time  and  money,  may  be  computed  approximately. 


OFFICERS 


BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD. 


GEORGE  C.  LORD,  President  .......  BOSTON. 

JAMES  T.  FUKUEK,  General  Manager         ......  BOSTON. 

DANA  J.  FLANDERS,  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent        .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  E.  LORD,  Assistant  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent     .  .  BOSTON. 

GEORGE  W.  STORER,  Assistant  General  Passenger-Agent  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  A.  WAITE,  Div.  Passenger-Agent,  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  Div.,  WORCESTER. 
WILLIAM  MERRITT,  Superintendent  Western  Division     ....  BOSTON. 

DANIEL  W.  SANBORN,  Superintendent  Eastern  Division  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

JOHN  W.  SANUORN,  Superintendent  Northern  Division   .  .          WOI.FEUORO'  JTNCTION. 

GKORGE  W.  HURLBURT,  Superintendent  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  Division,  WORCESTER. 
W.  F.  SIMONS,  Superintendent  Southern  Division,  Lowell  System  .  .  BOSTON. 

H.  E.  FOLSOM,  Superintendent  Passumpsic  Division,  Lowell  System,  .  LYNDONVILLE,  VT. 
G.  E.  TODD,  Superintendent  Northern-Railroad  Division,  Lowell  System,  CONCORD,  N.H. 
FRANK  D.  GOURLEY,  Travelling  Passenger-Agent  .  .  ...  BOSTON. 


TICKET-AGENTS  OF  THE  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  OF  WHOM 
EXCURSION-TICKETS  CAN  BE  OBTAINED. 

SAMIV.L  GRAY       .               218  Washington  Street,  three  doors  south  of  State  Street,  Boston. 
T    M     v  \  Station,  Haymarket  Square,  Ifcston. 

J.M.FRENCH >      Station,  Causeway  Street,  «ston! 

N.   B.   DANA          .  .  .  .         Lowell  Station,  Causeway  Street,  Boston. 

C.  M.  Rur.r.LES   .......  Union  Station,  Worcester. 

LANCASTER  &  STEEDE    ......        434  Main  Street,  Worcester. 

J.   B.   LKPIKK         ......         25  Washington  Square,  Worcester. 

L.  W.  MARDEN   .........       Station,  Salem. 

A.  II.  GVINCY       .......      Station,  North  River,  Salem. 

A.  A.   DAVIS          .........       Station,  Lynn. 

J.  CLARK  ........  Station,  South  Lawrence. 

C.   K.  MILLER       .......  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

H.   II.  CrsiiiNG    ......  Lowell  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

A.  (.'.  TAH.KV        ........  Station,  Haverhill. 

F.  J.   CLARK  .....  Station,  Central   Street,    Lowell. 
A.   V.   CASWKI.L     ......          Station,   Middlesex   Street,   Lowell. 

G.  ().  WHITK         ....  .          Station,  Merrimac   Street,   Lowell. 

F.   W.   1'orE  .........   Station,   Clinton. 

C.   H.    KINNF.Y        ........   Station,  Ayer  Junction. 

F.  BAKR      ..........  Station,  Nashua. 

G.  SWAIN   .  .  .  ...  Lowell  Station,  Nashua. 

A.   F.u.toTT  ........         Station,  Manchester. 

C.   L.  GiLviiiKE      .  .....  Station,  Concord. 

C.   W.   KNOWLES   ........      Station,   Novburyport. 

W.  T.  PERKINS     ........         Station,   PurtMiiouth. 

P.  WHITE,  JR.       .  .  .....     Station,  F.xeter. 

C.  A.   HASEI.TINE  ........     Station,  Dover. 

F.   N.   CIIASK          .  .  .         Station,  Great   Falls. 

N.   T.   KIMP.  u.i.     .  ......  Station,   Ro,-h«-ster. 

A.    F     1!.    FLOYD    ........     Station,   >.ilni 

RirHARDSON  St. ill' 


C.    J.     Wu,(,IN 

C.  P.  WALDRON 


The  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  o\vcs  its  besyinnin.u:  to  tlie  people  of 
Andover,  who  in  Is:!;!  petitioned  the  Massachusetts  Legislature  for 
authority  to  construct  a  railroad  from  near  their  South-Parish  meeting- 
house to  the  Boston  &  Lowell  Railroad  in  Wilmington.  Tin-  Andover 
&  Wilmington  Railroad  received  a  charter  iu  is:!:!,  and  took  over  three 
years  to  build  its  eiidit  miles  of  track,  which  was  opened  in  Is;5i;.  It 
was  calculated  that  the  new  line  would  inherit  the  business  of  the 
Andover,  Ilaverhill.  and  Deny  stages,  amounting  annually  to  l.">.i;sl 
passengers  and  .">.7oo  tons  of  freight  conveyed  in  ba.u.ifajfc'-wajjons 
through  Andover  to  Boston,  the  receipts  from  tlioe  sources  aggregat- 
ing *•_>:!.]  110. 7.">.  Deducting  sL>..V.)L:U  to  be  paid  to  the  Boston  'c  Lowell 
for  toll.  si;. 000  for  interest  on  the  capital  stock  of  slon.noO.  and  si  1 .70S 
for  salaries  and  repairs,  the  net  annual  profits  of  the  road  were  ex- 
pected to  amount  to  s:!.,">.">s.  1 1. 

The  people  of  Ilaverhill  were  unwilling  to  have  Andover  surpass 
them  in  railway  accommodations,  and  in  Is:;.")  they  petitioned  for  au- 
thoritv  to  extend  tin-  line  from  Andover  to  "the  central  village  in 
Ilaverhill."  It  reached  Bradford  on  Oct.  (5,  is;>7  ;  and  further  authority 
had  then  already  been  secured  to  extend  the  rails  to  the  frontier  of 
New  Hampshire,  whose  Legislature  had  also  authori/.ed  it  (June  '27. 
1  >.">.">.  to  be  built  across  their  territory.  The  line  reached  HUM  Kings- 
ton on  Jan.  1.  is-jO;  Kxeter.  .lime  •_'('..  ls|it:  Newmarket.  -Inly  L's.  lsll: 
and  Dover.  Sept.  L'l.  ]s|l.  'I'he  Leu'Mat  lire  of  Maine  then  authori/.ed 
it<  extension  into  that  Slate,  and  on  Feb.  '2.  1>I:',.  it  reached  South  Ber- 
wick, tlie  branch  from  Rollinsford  to  (Ireat  Fall-  beinir  opened  .Inly 
24.  ls4:>.  ILn'inii'  then  a  line  tifty-e'iLi'lit  milex  lontr.  from  \\'ilmini.r- 
ton  to  South  Berwick,  tlie  corporation  resolved  to  cut  loo«-e  From  the 
Boston  >.<:  Loxvell  Railroad,  and  secure  an  independent  line  to  Boston. 
The  (ieneral  Court  granted  \\n~-  jietilioii  March  Id.  1-11:  and  by  .Inly 
1.  IS-t.".  train-  ivin  over  the  new  route  into  t lie  met  ropolN  of  Ma--a- 


14 

chusetts.  The  Haymarkct-Square  station  was  occupied  March  6,  1846. 
The  Medford  line  went  into  operation  March  1,  1847;  and  the  Methuen 
Branch,  Aug.'  27,  184'J. 

From  1847  to  1871,  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  and  the  Eastern 
Railroad  enjoyed  a  joint  use  of  the  Portland,  Saco  &  Portsmouth  Rail- 
road; and  in  1871,  when  this  line  terminated  its  contract,  so  far  as  the 
Boston  &  Maine  was  concerned,  the  latter  corporation,  unwilling  to  be 
left  in  the  woods  at  South  Berwick,  built  a  new  route  from  that  point 
to  Portland,  opening  it  Feb.  15,  1873. 

The  Eastern  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  was  started 
as  a  Salem  enterprise,  chartered  in  April,  183G.  The  Eastern  road  was 
opened  to  Salem  on  Aug.  27,  1838;  to  Newburyport,  Aug.  28,  1840; 
and  to  Portsmouth,  Nov.  !),  1840.  The  Portland,  Saco  &  Portsmouth 
Railroad  opened  its  whole  line  Nov.  21,  1842.  The  terminus  was  at 
East  Boston  (with  a  ferry  to  Boston)  until  1854,  when  it  opened  the 
station  on  Causeway  Street,  in  the  city  proper.  The  Marblehead 
Branch  went  into  operation  in  1839;  the  Gloucester  Branch,  in  1847; 
the  Salisbury  Branch,  in  1848.  In  1853  the  Eastern  Railroad  began 
operating  the  South-Reading  Branch.  The  Portsmouth,  Great  Falls 
&  Conway  Railroad  was  completed  through  to  North  Conway  in  June, 
1872,  and  leased  to  the  Eastern.  The  Eastern  Railroad  was  taken  pos- 
session of  by  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  on  Dec.  2,  1884. 

The  corporation  received  its  title,  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad, 
from  the  act  of  the  New-Hampshire  Legislature,  in  ls.T>;  and  the 
Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  Company  of  Massachusetts  was  created  in 
1841. 

The  Boston  £  Lowell  Railroad,  now  the  Southern  Division  of  the 
Lowell  System  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  was  the  first  organized 
and  the  first  commenced  of  the  Boston  railroads.  The  Boston  & 
Lowell  road  was  opened  June  27,  ]s35.  In  1*57  a  new  station  arose, 
on  Causeway  Street,  which  was  replaced  by  the  present  line  depot  in 
1*74.  The  line  was  composed  of  "  fish-belly"  rails,  laid  on  stone  sleep- 
ers, which  rested  on  parallel  sunken  walls  of  masonry.  The  first  loco- 
motive on  the  route  came  from  Stephenson's  works  at  Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne,  and  had  an  English  engineer.  The  Boston  &  Lowell  System, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Boston,  Concord  &  Montreal  Railroad,  was 
taken  possession  of  by  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  on  Oct.  11,  1887; 
and  the  Manchester  &  Lawrence  Railroad  was  taken  Nov.  21.  IMS?. 

Looking  to  the  farther  western  lines  of  this  great  system,  we  find 
that  the  Worcester  &  Nashua  Railroad  was  formed  Nov.  <!,  1*40,  by 
the  consolidation  of  a  company  bearing  that  name  with  the  Groton  & 
Nashua  Railroad.  The  line  was  opened  from  Worcester  to  Nashua  on 
Dec.  is,  IslS;  and  the  Nashua  &  Rochester  Railroad  went  into  opera- 
tion Nov.  24.  1*74.  and  was  consolidated  with  the  Worcester  &  Nashua 
on  Dec.  1.  is.s:}.  The  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Rochester  Railroad  passed 
under  the  management  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  on  May  1,  188G. 


15 


CHAPTER  I. 


K  FRIR  STAKT  FROM  BOSTON. 

THE  EASTERN  AND  WESTERN  DIVISIONS.  —  How  TO  Go.  —  THE  SUB- 
URBAN RlVER.  —  SoMERVII.I.E.  —  CHELSEA.  —  REVEKE  BEACH.  —  TlIE 
LYNN  MARSHES.  —  SAUGUS.  —  THE  CITY  OK  SHOES.  —  KUIANT. 

Southron  ami  Westerner  and  Kurope  men  we, 
But  we're  all  of  us  Yankees  in  our  loving  of  tbee, 

New  England. 

HXD  so  it  lias  come  about  that  this  summer's  trip  is  to  lead  us 
down  the  famous  coast  of  New  England,  around  Massachusetts 
Bay  and  the  (iulf  of  Maine,  and  through  a  score  of  quaint  old 
sea-ports,  the  fading  little  Tyres  and  Sidons  of  the  West,  full 
of  legend  and  romance,  and  surrounded  by  far-reaching  sapphire  seas. 
If  we  prefer  to  get  a  whin"  of  inland  air,  and  a  panorama  of  the 
rocky  hills  of  Middlesex  and  Essex,  the  Merrimac  Valley,  and  ancient 
Exeter  and  Dover,  and  at  the  same  time  secure  the  most  direct  route 
for  Kennebunkport  and  Old  Orchard,  we  shall  take  the  express-train  on 
the  Western  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  at  the  terminal 
station  of  that  great  corporation,  on  llaymarket  Square,  Boston.  But 
if  our  destination  is  Lynn  or  Salem,  Swampscott  or  Marblehcad.  Cape 
Ann  or  Newburypoit,  Hampton  or  live,  Portsmouth  or  the  Isles  of 
Shoals,  Kittery  Point  or  York  Beach,  we  shall  make  our  way  to  the 
station  of  the  Eastern  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  on 
Causeway  Street,  Boston.  If  the  journey  is  to  extend  to  Portland,  or 
beyond,  either  Western  or  Ea>tern  Division  may  be  used,  as  each  of 
them  runs  to  Portland.  Or  the  coast  may  be  followed  more'  closely 
by  going  by  the  Eastern  Division  as  far  as  North  Berwick,  in  Maine 
(where  the  two  divisions  cross  each  other),  and  thence  following  the 
line  of  the  shore  by  the  Western  Division,  which,  from  this  point 
northward.  U  nominally  the  Western  Division,  but  geographically  the 
eastern  division. 

Having  comfortably  arranged  our  travelling  iiii/uiliii  xnt'i.  and  set- 
tled down  in  an  easy  place  in  the  Pullman  car.  or  in  one  of  the  ahno>t 
equally  comfortable  passenger-cars,  the  signal  for  starting  i-  awaited. 
a-  we  study  the  faces  and  traits  of  our  travelling  neighbors,  and  think 
complacently  of  the  glorious  journey  ahead. 

On  leaving  the  terminal  station  in  Bo-ton,  the  train  niove<  out  over 
the  network  of  railway  bridges  that  cro»s  and  almo-l  hide  the  Charles 


Hi 

River.  The  tall  spars  of  three-masted  schooners  and  the  trim  rigging 
of  provincial  brigs  appear  on  either  side,  cheek  by  jowl  with  bustling 
locomotives,  and  trains  bound  for  Saratoga  or  Montreal  or  Western 
New  England.  The  grim  State  Prison  of  Massachusetts  frowns  down, 
in  its  cold  granite  sternness,  on  the  right :  and  on  the  other  side  tower 
the  many  factory-chimneys  of  East  Cambridge.  The  populous  hills  of 
Cliarlcstown  next  appear,  and  long  continue  in  sight,  as  if  they  are 
some  magnetic  mountain-range,  from  which  our  Pullman  train  vainly 
endeavors  to  escape. 

For  a  considerable  distance  the  route  lies  through  the  eastern  part 
of  Somerville,  a  city  of  about  :>.j.oou  inhabitants,  with  its  famous  old 
powder-house,  built  by  a  French  Huguenot  in  17<)4.  and  despoiled  of 
its  military  stores  in  1774  by  200  British  troop*:  its  memorial  battery 
on  Central  Hill,  in  proud  memory  of  the  40  otlicers  and  1.00.5  soldiers 
sent  hence  to  the  Civil  War:  its  parks  and  public  library,  and  other 
fine  buildings.  On  the  west,  across  a  vast  park  of  freight-cars,  rises 
the  low  black  dome  of  the  McLean  Asylum  for  the  Insane,  which  has 
been  in  successful  operation  for  upwards  of  seventy  years.  Beyond 
the  limits  of  Somerville.  the  line  runs  out  on  the  broad  meadows  of 
the  Mystic,  and  crosses  that  river  on  a  long  bridge,  with  attractive 
views  to  the  westward,  up  to  the  distant  hills  on  \vliich  rise  the  halls 
of  Tufts  College,  with  "the  most  perfect  campanile  in  America." 

Next  come  the  salt-marshes  of  Everett,  a  quiet  little  suburban  town 
of  recent  formation,  many  of  whose  people  do  business  in  Boston. 
Here  the  Saugus  Branch  swings  otl1  to  the  left,  towards  the  Middlesex 
Fells  and  the  rocky  hill*  of  Maiden.  Another  wide  curve  of  the  track, 
around  the  radial  point  of  Bunker-Hill  Monument,  and  the  city  of  Chel- 
sea is  reached,  with  its  thirty  thou*and  inhabitant*.  it>  famous  pot- 
teries, and  various  manufactories,  (in  the  riirht.  across  a  tidal  lagoon, 
rises  the  United-States  Naval  Hospital:  and  on  the  other  side,  high  up 
on  Powdcr-IIorn  Hill,  stands  the  Massachusetts  Soldiers'  Home,  main- 
tained by  popular  contributions  as  a  hntt-l  ilf-s  inruUji-s  for  worn-out 
veterans  of  the  late  war.  It  was  while'  passing  the  Chelsea  soldiers' 
monument  in  the  train  that  Longfellow  made  his  droll  epigram  : 


But  the  beautiful  home  on  the  heights  above  Chelsea  removes  the  >tinu 
from  t his  verse,  now. 

Roundinir  Powder-Horn  Hill,  the  train  speed-  away  across  the  pictur- 
esque mar-lies  in  the  town  of  Revere,  with  the  summer-hotels  on  Revere 
Beach  not  far  away,  and  connected  with  the  main  line  by  a  branch  from 
ju-t  ea-t  of  the  ^tation.  Broad  expanses  of  blue  -ea  are  vi-iblr  beyond. 
Farther  out.  ri-inir  from  the  ocean,  is  the  peninsula  of  Naliant.  with 
:t-  inanv  trees  uud  cottaire-  and  -piivs. 


17 

Beyond  Chelsea,  the  Grand-Junction  Railroad  crosses  our  line,  run- 
uin<r  clear  around  Boston,  from  South  Boston  to  East  Boston,  and  used 
for  the  transfer  of  vast  amounts  of  freight,  uniting,  as  it  does,  nearly 
all  the  railway  lines  that  enter  "  the  hub  of  the  universe."  Then  come 
glimpses  of  Revere's  church-spire,  the  house-crowned  ridge  of  Orient 
Heights,  and  the  junction  at  Revere,  whence  a  branch  line  runs  down 
to  deep  tide-water  at  East  Boston. 

On  the  wide  desert  of  salt-marshes  beyond  is  the  pleasant  grove  of 
Oak  Island,  sacred  to  picnics  and  athletic  sports  ;  and  the  train  rushes 
through  its  grateful  shade,  and  past  the  long  platforms,  and  so  oti 
again  to  the  open  levels  beyond. 

Along  the  Lynn  marshes  grow  great  patches  of  samphire,  green  in 
summer  and  red  in  autumn,  and  used  by  the  country-people  for  pickles 
or  salads.  The  gray-green  salt-grass  waves  along  the  labyrinthine 
streams  that  traverse  the  lowlands,  and  over  the  beach's  rim  gleams 
the  silvery  line  of  the  sea.  At  the  Point  of  Pines,  the  great  hotel  lifts 
its  red-and-olive  walls  above  the  trees,  marking  the  site  of  various 
Bombardments  of  Tunis,  Battles  of  New  Orleans,  and  other  admirable 
excursion-objects  for  Boston  stay-at-homes. 

On  the  left,  the  tall  spire  of  the  East-Saugus  church  rises  from  the 
edge  of  the  marshes,  in  the  old  town  where  the  h'rst  American  iron- 
works began  operations,  in  1042,  and  ran  for  nearly  fifty  years,  making 
"  iron  as  good  as  Spanish;"  where  dwelt  Thomas  Hudson,  a  lineal  de- 
scendent  of  the  illustrious  Capt.  Hendrick  Hudson;  where,  from  the 
rock  now  marked  with  a  memorial  tablet.  Maj.  Appleton  of  Ipswich, 
in  UIS7,  directed  the  people  to  take  up  arms  against  Sir  Edmund 
Andros  ;  where  Fanny  Fern  received  her  education,  in  the  long-obsolete 
Saugus  Academy,  when  Feltou.  afterwards  president  of  Harvard  Col- 
lege, was  the  school's  chore-boy;  where  Dolly  Sweetser  taught  a  young 
Virginian  privateersmun  how  to  read,  and  for  years  he  grew  in  grace, 
amid  these  solitudes,  and  became  the  great  evangelist  of  sailors.  Father 
Taylor.  Southward  from  Saugus,  the  eye  follows  the  rugged  hills  of 
Maiden,  fading  away  toward  the  Mystic  Valley. 

Just  ahead  glimmer  the  lines  of  small  white  houses  which  Lynn  is 
throwing  out  like  a  skirmish-line  along  the  impracticable  marsh.  Here 


Soon  after  crossing  Sauirns  IJiver.  we  find  our  train  whirling  through 
the  great  city  of  shoes,  crossing  wide  streets  lined  with  brick  block>. 
and  pausing  in  the  slat  ion  of  Lynn,  one-quarter  of  whose  fj  ft  \-  thousand 
people,  are  engaged  in  the  making  of  shoes,  turninn'  out  an  annual  prod- 
uct of  above  twenty  million  dollars  in  value.  If  time  allowed,  we 
miii'ht  find  it  interesting  to  vi-it  it-  handsome  city-hall,  the  -tatuc- 
crowned  soldiers'  monument,  the  Common,  the  beautiful  memorial 
church  of  St.  Stephen,  the  far-viewing  High  K'ick.  the  Lake-  of  Lynn, 


18 

Pine-Grove  Cemetery,  Dungeon  Rock,  and  other  local  lions.  Or  we 
could  drive  down  by  Xahant  Street  and  Ocean  Street  and  Sagamore 
Hill,  where  many  handsome  villas  of  Boston  merchants  and  other  sum- 
mer-visitors adorn  the  rocky  shore  which  stretches  from  Xahant  Beach 
to  Swampscott.  And  public  carriages  make  frequent  trips  along  the 
isthmus-strand  to  Xahant,  with  its  many  beaches  and  caverns  and  sea- 
beaten  rocks,  the  "  cold-roast  Boston.''  where  the  oldest  families  of  the 
Puritan  city  find  congenial  summer-homes,  with  but  little  molestation 
from  hotel-people.  About  that  half-islanded  town,  anchored  in  the 
ocean,  cling  a  host  of  memories  of  Hawthorne  and  Emerson.  Longfel- 
low and  Whittier,  Agassiz  and  Webster.  Prescott  and  Motley.  Howells 
and  Lowell,  and  other  great  men. 

Just  beyond  Lynn  the  train  comes  within  sight  of  the  ocean  again, 
and  the  dark  round  tower  which  belongs  to  the  Swampscott  water- 
works. A  branch  line  sweeps  oft1  to  the  right,  to  the  beach-stations 
between  Swampscott  and  Marblehead. 

Nor  can  we  end  this  chapter  better  than  with  a  few  couplets  from 
Longfellow's  poem.  '-The  Bells  of  Lynn,  heard  at  Xahant." 

"  O  curfew  of  the  setting  sun  '.     O  Bells  of  Lynn  ! 
O  requiem  of  the  dying  <l;iy !     O  Bells  of  Lynn  1 

From  the  dark  belfries  of  yon  cloud-cathedral  wafted, 
Your  sounds  aerial  seem  to  float,  O  Bells  of  Lynn! 

Borne  on  the  evening-wind  across  the  crimson  twilight, 
O'er  laud  and  sea  they  rise  and  fall,  O  Bells  of  Lynn  ! 

The  fisherman  in  his  boat,  far  out  beyond  the  head'and, 
Listens,  and  leisurely  rows  ashore.  <>  Hells  of  Lynn! 

Over  the  shilling  sands  the  wandering  cattle  homeward 
Follow  each  other  at  your  call,  O  Bells  of  Lynn  '. 

The  distant  litrht-house  hears,  and  with  his  (lamina  simia! 
Answers  you,  passing  the  watchword  on,  O  Bells  of  Lynn! 

And  down  the  darkening  coast  run  the  tumultuous  surges, 
And  dap  their  hands,  and  shout  to  you,  O  Bells  of  Lynn!  " 


19 


CHAPTER  II. 


SWR1VIPSCOTT. 


COOL    AND   SALTY    BREEZES. — OLD    TIMES. —  FISHERMEN'S    BEACH.— 
WHALE'S  BEACH. — PHILLIPS  BEACH. —  BEACH  BLUFF. — CLIFTON. 

TOURISTS  bound  for  the  hotels  and  villas  along  Fishermen's  and 
Whale's  Beaches,  and  in  the  village  proper,  get  off  the  train  at 
Svvampscott  station,  on  the  main  line,  whence  a  great  number 
and  variety  of  public  conveyances  run  to  the  points  above-men- 
tioned. The  Beach-Bluff  station  is  the  place  to  alight  for  the  Hotel 
Preston;  Clifton  station,  for  the  Clifton  and  Crowninshield ;  and  Dev- 
ereux  station,  for  the  Devereux  Mansion,  and  for  Marblehcad  Neck  by 
carriage. 

Swarapscott  is  practically  a  maritime  ward  of  Boston,  a  dainty  sum- 
mer-home for  hundreds  of  merchants  and  business-men  and  their  fam- 
ilies, within  half  an  hour  of  State  Street,  on  the  symmetrical  sweep  of 
a  magnificent  bay,  open  to  the  sea  and  the  fairest  views  of  distant 
shores.  Nowhere  arc  there  more  attractive  beaches,  or  fairer  out- 
looks, or  sweeter  ocean-air.  — •  the  pure  and  bracing  atmosphere  of 
the  famous  North  Shore.  .  The  cool  and  sally  breex.es  of  lliis  penin- 
sula send  the  blood  tingling  through  the  veins,  and  set  the  checks 
to  glowing,  and  tranquillize  the  nerves. — -at  once  bullet  ing  and  healing. 
Here  you  need  warm  wraps  even  for  August  evenings. 

Another  pleasing  trait  of  Swampscott  is  found  in  quick  contrasts  of 
shore,  from  the  rocky  border  of  Black-Will's  Cliff  and  Lincoln-House 
Point  and  (Jalloupc's  Point  to  the  level  sands  of  the  three  intervening 
beaches, —  Fishermen's,  Whale's,  and  Phillips. —  each  of  them  just  long 
enough  for  capital  landscape  effect;  and  back  along  the  hills,  among 
the  ledges,  are  forests  of  evergreens  and  dales  rich  in  many  lloxvers, 
and  here  and  there  glimpses  of  the  surrounding  Atlantic. 

The  atmospheric  changes  along  this  coast  are  full  of  delicacv  and 
fascination,  witli  their  gray  days  and  mirages,  middle  tone^  and  cloii.N 
of  pearl  and  ash,  and  the  vivid  blue  of  serene  days,  wiili  the  -.Imn.'^  of 
Nah ant  and  Egg  Rock  and  Xanfaskel.  and  the  Milton  IlilK  clear  in  the 
crystal  light. 

The  Somerset-Club  and  Papanti  people  make  merry  here  all  the  live- 
long summer,  with  their  exclusive  parti<-<.  yachting,  coaching,  moon- 
liirlit  riding,  concert <.  amateur  theatrical-;  and  iiiiu~trel-y.  tniui-.  and 
dancing  in  all  its  varieties.  Thc<e  charniinir  Pri«-illa<  and  "Dorotlivs 


20 

are  sublimely  reckless  of  the  ancient  local  laws,  among  which  appear 
these :  "  No  garment  shall  be  made  with  short  sleeves,  and  such  as  have 
garments  with  short  sleeves  shall  not  wear  the  same  unless  they  cover 
the  arms  to  the  wrist." — "No  person  who  is  not  worth  two  hundred 
pounds  shall  wear  any  gold  or  silver  lace,  or  any  silk  hose  or  scarfs." 

A  spirited  local  writer  dryly  remarks  that  "Boston  is  exceedingly 
fortunate  in  being  so  near  to  Swampscott,  for  Boston's  aristocracy 
never  appears  at  its  best  except  when  seen  on  Swampscott's  pictur- 
esque shores." 

The  contrasts  between  the  old  and  the  new — the  fishing-hamlet  of 
a  half-century  ago,  and  the  patrician  summer-resort  of  today  —  afford 
interesting  studies,  and  give  piquancy  to  the  place.  Away  back  in  1830, 
Auiu  Betsy  Blaney  began  to  take  summer-boarders  for  three  dollars  a 
week,  in  a  house  that  was  built  in  1G5G.  In  later  years,  Daniel  Webster 
and  Rufus  Choate,  Thurlow  Weed  and  Wendell  Phillips,  Gen.  Sherman 
and  Phillips  Brooks,  became  frequent  visitors  here ;  and  also  various 
members  of  the  Lawrence  and  Saltonstall  and  Curtis  families. 

The  town  was  once  mainly  supported  by  its  fishing-fleet,  but  this 
hazardous  industry  has  now  faded  into  insignificance,  and  the  fleet 
contains  only  a  dozen  schooners,  whose  anchorage-ground  is  off  Fisher- 
men's (or  Blaney' s)  Beach.  But  the  maritime  character  of  the  people 
has  in  no  manner  been  modified,  and  many  a  famous  yacht-captain,  like 
Mart.  Stone,  of  the  Mayflower,  may  be  met  in  the  Fishermen's-Club 
soirees. 

Approaching  the  village  from  the  Lynn  or  the  Swampscott  station, 
along  a  street  traversed  by  the  horse-cars,  you  first  pass  the  Soldiers' 
Monument,  with  the  Mudge  estate  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  a 
glorious  view  of  the  sea.  Thence  the  road  runs  eastward  for  a  long 
way,  lined  by  cottages  and  boarding-houses,  their  backs  within  a  few 
feet  of  high  cliffs,  whose  bases  the  ocean  perpetually  beats.  Then 
the  street  passes  for  half  a  mile  along  the  edge  of  Fishermen's  Beach, 
with  its  clusters  of  fish-houses,  old  boats,  drying  nets,  and  other  para- 
phernalia of  the  sea.  Across  the  wide  and  level  strand,  the  waves  are 
seen  dancing  in  the  broad  bay  towards  Egg  Rock  and  Xahant;  and  on 
the  rocky  eastern  headland  —  Lincoln-House  Point  —  stands  a  great 
hotel,  almost  exclusively  occupied  by  Bostonians.  On  and  near  this 
promontory  are  the  (iaston,  Curtis,  Jewell,  and  other  cottages.  Then 
the  street  comes  out  on  Whale's  Beach,  with  the  Ocean  House  on  one 
side,  and  on  the  other  the  open  sands  and  their  fringe  of  surf,  and  a 
line  of  handsome  villas,  st retehinic  away  to  (Jalloupc's  Point,  their 
grounds  running  down  to  the  high-tide  mark.  The  bold  and  rock- 
bound  promontory  that  projects  southward  into  the  sea  beyond  is 
occupied  by  a  number  of  aristocratic  villas,  each  with  its  blue  vistas 
of  sea  and  sky.  On  the  outer  point,  beyond  the  wave-swept  rocks, 
amid  which  there  is  perpetual  sea-music,  lie  the  treacherous  reefs  of 
Dread  Ledge. 


22 

Out  on  Little's  Point  is  a  cluster  of  beautiful  modern  villas,  on  a 
high,  sea-viewing  plateau,  and  surrounded  by  well-groomed  grounds. 
Among  them  are  "Red  Gables,"  the  home  of  Mrs.  Grace  A.  Oliver; 
"  Blythewood,"  James  L.  Little's  place ;  "  Briergate,"  belonging  to  John 
Mason  Little;  "Grasshead,"  "Beachend,"  and  other  picturesque  semi- 
colonial  mansions. 

Beyond  Galloupe's  and  Little's  Points,  the  long  strand  of  Phillips 
Beach  bends  away  to  the  north-east,  with  its  bright  sands  fringed  by 
an  ever-shifting  line  of  white  breakers.  Near  the  farther  end  rises 
the  rocky  headland  of  Beach  Bluft',  commanding  (if  we  may  believe 
Maury,  of  the  Coast  Survey)  the  noblest  view  on  the  eastern  coast 
of  the  United  States.  Here  stand  the  Hotel  Preston  and  The  Uplands, 
with  other  houses  and  cottages  back  toward  the  railroad. 

The  Clifton  House,  near  the  Clifton  station,  is  the  oldest  hotel  on 
the  North  Shore,  and  dates  its  origin  from  the  year  1846.  It  stands  on 
high  ground,  over  a  bold  and  rocky  shore,  and  commands  a  succession 
of  noble  views,  including  Phillips  Point,  Nahant,  the  long  gray  line  of 
the  South  Shore,  and  a  limitless  area  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  with  the 
shipping  of  Boston  moving  to  and  fro.  A  colony  of  cottages  adjoins 
the  pleasant  grounds  of  the  Clifton ;  and  a  casino  affords  the  social 
and  amusement  centre  for  the  people  of  the  vicinity.  Just  beyond, 
near  the  Devereux  station,  and  now  used  as  a  summer  boarding-house, 
is  the  Devereux  Mansion  where  Longfellow  wrote  "The  Fire  of 
Driftwood  "  :  — 

"  We  sat  within  the  farm-house  old, 

Whose  windows,  looking  oVr  the  bay, 
Gave  to  the  sea-breeze,  damp  and  cold, 
Au  easy  entrance  night  and  day. 

Not  far  away  we  saw  the  port, 

The  strange,  old-fashioned,  silent  town, 
The  light-house,  the  dismantled  fort, 

The  wooden  houses,  quaint  and  brown." 


23 


CHAPTER  III. 


ABBOTT  HALL.  —  ANCIENT  MANSIONS.  —  BARNEGAT.  —  THE  FADING  DIA- 
LECT. —  AGNES  STRRIAGE.  —  SHOE-MAKING.  —  ST.  MICHAEL'S.  — 
FATHER  TAYLOR.  —  -YACHTSMEN'S  PARADISE.  —  LOWELL  ISLAND.  — 
MARBLEIIEAD  NECK.  —  -RIVERHEAD  BEACH.  —  THE  XANEPASHEMET. 

IMMEDIATELY  beyond  Dcvereux  station,  the  Swampscott  Branch 
rinds  its  terminal  point  at  Marblehead,  the  famous  old  sea-port,  in 
long-past   times   a  hornet's   nest   of  privateers.     Another  branch 
railroad  runs  from  this  point  to  Salem,  a  few  miles  distant  along 
the  coast. 

•  Marblehead,  the  birthplace  of  Vice-President  Elbridge  Gerry,  the 
recruiting-ground  for  the  victorious  crew  of  the  Constitution  and  the 
famous  Amphibious  Regiment  (14th  Massachusetts)  of  the  Continental 
Army,  the  scene  of  Whittier's  poem  of  "  Skipper  Ireson's  Ride,"  lies 
out  on  a  bare  and  rocky  promontory  in  Massachusetts  Hay.  with  a 
snug  little  harbor  on  one  side,  across  which  rise  the  summer-cottages 
and  hotels  of  Marblehead  Neck.  The  harbor  is  a  mile  long,  and  a  third 
of  a  mile  wide,  with  deep  water  at  all  tides,  and  a  safe  shelter  from  all 
storms.  For  a  few  days  in  each  decade  it  is  fro/.en  over,  but  this  con- 
tingency does  not  affect  the  hundreds  of  yachtsmen  who  make  it  their 
summer  headquarters. 

About  this  rocky  strand  poesy  lias  woven  some  of  its  fairest 
chaplels,  like  Bensel's  "A  Marblehead  Legend,"  Longfellow's  "The 
Fire  of  Driftwood."  Lillie  Barr's  ••  Captain  Morrow's  Thanksgiving." 

Lucy  Larcom's 

"  Hopeless.  faithful, 
Hannah's  at  the  window,  hinditiL,'  shoe*;" 

and  John  W.  Chadwick's  ••  By  the  Sea-shore:" 

"  Far  out  at  SIM, 

The  .hips  that  lie.- 
Aloiii,'  'hi-  din1  ''ori/on's  line 

Their  sail-  unfold 

Like  elolhof  -old, 
Tr;inslii.'iiivd  l.y  that  liirlit  divine." 

In  the  town,  the  -trance  old  street-  wind  around  the  hill-ide-  and 
close  among  the  dark  colonial  house-,  with  many  an  unexpected  turn 


24 

and  pitch  and  angle.  Whoever  would  rightly  comprehend  this  laby- 
rinth of  antiquity,  unequalled  elsewhere  on  our  coast,  should  read  the 
little  "  Guide  to  Marblehead"  prepared  by  Samuel  Roads,  jun.,  one  of 
the  best-known  of  modern  Marbleheaders.  Herein  also  are  interest- 
ing chapters  on  the  ever-visible  geology  and  the  Indian  forts  and 
antiquities,  and  the  stories  of  scores  of  venerable  houses. 

The  most  conspicuous  building  of  the  town,  its  tower  a  landmark 
over  land  and  sea  for  many  leagues,  is  Abbott  Hall,  a  rather  imposing 
brick  edifice  on  Washington  Square,  given  to  the  town  by  Benjamin 
Abbott,  born  here  in  1796,  and  died  in  Boston  in  1S72.  On  the  lower 
floor  are  the  town-offices,  and  also  the  public  library  and  free  reading- 
room,  with  their  valuable  and  interesting  historic  paintings  (including 
Willard's  "Yankee  Doodle;  or,  the  Spirit  of  '70").  The  second  story 
contains  a  public  hall,  for  twelve  hundred  auditors,  with  a  portrait  of 
Mr.  Abbott.  Higher  up  comes  the  belfry,  with  its  magnificent  views 
over  half  the  Massachusetts  coast. 

The  mansion  built  by  Col.  Jeremiah  Lee,  in  1708,  with  materials 
imported  from  England,  and  at  a  cost  of  £10.000,  still  remains,  on 
Washington  Street,  and  is  occupied  by  the  Marblehead  National  and 
Savings  banks.  The  main  hall  is  wainscotted  with  mahogany,  and  has 
cornices  and  balustrades  of  the  same  costly  material,  richly  carved  and 
decorated.  In  this  house  Washington  and  Lafayette.  Jackson  and 
Monroe,  have  been  honored  guests. 

The  old  mansion  of  the  famous  "King  Hooper."  witli  its  rich  and 
quaint  wood-carvings,  is  on  Hooper  Street.  Next  door  stands  the 
grim  little  building  of  the  Grand  Bank,  built  of  the  granite  which 
underlies  its  foundations.  The  birthplace  of  Elbridge  (Jerry  is  at  the 
corner  of  Washington  and  Pickett  Streets.  On  Washington  Street. 
near  State,  stands  the  old  town-hall,  built  in  1727.  and  in  whose  forum 
the  patriot  orators  of  1770  made  their  appeals  to  the  people.  In  this 
Faneuil  Hall  of  Marblehead.  the  local  company  of  litriit  infaulrv  as- 
sembled before  going  to  Boston  Common,  in  April,  IsOl.  the  very  lirst 
company  of  American  militia  to  report  for  duty  in  answer  to  President 
Lincoln's  call  for  troops. 

Among  the  other  old  houses,  are  that  of  Capt.  John  Selman  (on 
Sehnan  Street),  who  captured  Prince-Edward  Island,  in  177.").  and  on 
being  reproved  by  Washington  threw  up  his  commission  ;  that  of  ( 'om. 
Samuel  Tucker,  of  the  Continental  Navy,  who  took  more  pri/.es  and 
fought  more  sea-fights  than  any  other  naval  hero  of  the  a  ire:  the  birth- 
place of  Chief- Just  ice  Joseph  Story  :  (Jen.  John  Glover's  house,  papered 
after  the  war  with  Continental  money:  the  old  tavern  into  which 
the  British  fritrate  Lii-cJtj  plumped  several  cannon-halls,  in  177">:  the 
custom-house,  weather-beaten  and  venerable  as  the  rocks  about  it; 
Floyd  Ireson's  house:  the  house  hi  Darling  Street  where  sat  "  Hannah 
binding  shoes."  the  pirate's  house,  evacuated  in  a  hurry,  wiih  vast 
treasures,  when  its  truculent  owner  heard  that  the  king's  men  wen- 


25 

after  him ;  the  old  house  on  Training-field  Hill,  in  which  lived  Michael 
Howden,  the  loyalist,  whose  domicile  was  stormed  by  the  angry 
populace. 

The  little  black  house  perched  up  on  the  rocks,  on  Front  Street, 
near  Tucker  Street,  is  the  oldest  in  town,  bearing  date  from  before 


1.     Peach's  Point,  Nfurl.lehead.  2.    Chii-in,  M;irl.lche;i<l  Xock. 

"..     Tucker  house-,  lniilt  M4i>. 

Iti.'ii).  and  moored  1o  ;i  MOIU-  chimney  of  Imuv  dinirn-ion<.  Front 
Street  follow^  tin-  liarltor-lim-  to  I-'ort  Scxvnll.  an  abandoned  and  u^ele^x 
stronu'liold.  \\ith  locked  ca->eniate>  and  dnnu'eon^.  and  enimiilinir  \\alN. 
'I'he  paternal  irovcrnmi-nt  of  the  republic  allo\v>  Marblehcad  to  use  the 
old  defence  as  a  public  park. 


26 

One  clay  during  the  War  of  1812,  three  British  men-of-war  chased 
the  frigate  Constitution  into  Marblehead  Harbor,  and  would  have  cap- 
tured her  there,  but  that  the  men  of  the  village  rushed  to  the  fort  and 
from  its  guns  poured  such  a  torrent  of  singular  missiles  at  the  royalist 
ships  that  they  wore  about  and  put  to  sea. 

The  old  part  of  the  town,  where  survive  the  memories  of  the 
stalwart  men  of  Jersey  and  Guernsey  who  founded  this  old-time 
fishing-colony,  is  remote  from  the  railway,  and  bears  the  odd  title  of 
Barnegat.  Here  the  lanes  wander  around  between  the  rocks,  and  the 
houses  face  every  way,  and  the  people  "crim"  when  the  winter  winds 
blow,  and  are  sometimes  "grouty,"  and  "squeal"  rocks  at  unsuspect- 
ing cats.  The  remarkable  Marblehead  dialect,  composed  of  idioms 
from  the  Channel  Islands  and  the  west  of  England,  whence  most  of 
the  original  settlers  came,  has  now  wellnigh  vanished,  and  is  pre- 
served only  in  "Agnes  Surriage"  and  "Skipper  Ireson's  Ride,"  with 
its  refrain  : 

"  Here's  Flud  Oirson,  for  his  horrd  horrt, 
Torr'd  an'  futhi-rr'd  an"  corr'd  in  a  corrt 
By  the  women  o'  Morble'ead." 

From  the  water-front  you  may  clamber  up  Shinbone  Alley  to  its 
head,  where  the  Fountain  Inn  used  to  stand,  and  where  the  noble 
Frankland  first  saw  Agnes  Surriage,  the  rosy  village-beauty,  bare- 
footed and  on  her  knees,  scrubbing  the  floor.  Near  by  is  the  corner 
that  has  always  been  known  by  the  Marbleheaders,  for  some  occult 
reason,  as  ••  Nowhere:  "  and  in  the  same  quarter  the  ancient  cemetery 
spreads  along  the  hill-top,  with  the  grave  of  Lattimore,  dated  1(590; 
that  of  Peter  Dixey,  a  mariner  so  ignorant  that  he  sounded  all  the  way 
from  England  to  Marblehead :  and  various  locally  distinguished  Reads 
and  Dixons  and  Lees,  and  others.  On  the  highest  point,  occupying 
the  place  of  the  old  meet  ing-house,  is  a  tall  monument  commemorating 
the  Marblehead  victims  of  the  storm  of  September  19th,  ls-Kj.  on  the 
Grand  Hanks  of  Newfoundland,  when  sixty-live  fishermen  from  this 
town  were  engulfed,  "  leaving  forty-three  widows  and  one  hundred  and 
fifty-live  fatherless  children." 

The  view  from  the  burying-ground  includes  a  vast  area  of  sea  and 
shore,  and  the  old  salts  of  the  villaire  delight  in  coming  up  hither,  to 
smoke  their  pipes,  and  look  oil'  on  the  blue  plain  and  its  islands  and 
sails.  <)n  the  liiirh  blutt'  near  by  stood  Fort  Washington,  a  defensive 
work  of  the  Revolutionary  era. 

Sojonrners  at  Marblchead  should  carefully  read  ISvinier's  capital 
historical  romance  of  ••  Amies  Surriage."  founded  on  Sir  Harry  Frank- 
land's  singular  adventures  here,  in  the  old  Provincial  days,  and  contain- 
ing most  brilliant  descriptions  of  the  ancient  town  and  its  ways. 
Frankland's  grandfather  was  Oliver  Cromwell's  great-irrandsoii.  and 
his  father  was  governor  of  tin-  Kast-India  Company  in  1710.  when  Harry 
was  born,  in  Bengal.  In  later  years  he  was  an  intimate  friend  of 


27 


28 

AValpole,  Fielding,  and  Chesterfield  (the  latter  of  whom  he  greatly 
resembled) ;  yet  destiny  gave  his  fate  into  the  hands  of  a  Marblehead 
fisherman's  daughter. 

Near  the  site  of  the  Fountain  Inn  (at  whose  well  romantic  visitors 
may  drink)  is  the  "Old  Brig"  house,  long  ago  the  home  of  Edward 
Dimond,  the  famous  wizard  and  sea-captain,  whose  ship's  decks  at 
morning  were  often  found  heaped  high  with  fish,  caught  by  goblins 
during  the  night.  It  is  a  matter  of  tradition  that  Moll  Pitcher,  the 
fortune-teller  of  Lynn,  was  Dimond's  daughter,  born  in  the  "  Old  Brig." 

Shoe-making  has  always  been  an  important  industry  of  the  town,  for 
when  the  fishing-fleets  came  home  in  the  late  autumn,  their  mariners 
settled  down  for  the  winter  at  this  more  comfortable  work ;  and  every 
Marblehead  home  had  its  little  one-story  shop  near  by,  perched  on  the 
crags,  or  nestling  in  the  yard.  Here  the  master  of  the  family  spent 
the  winter  making  shoes  by  hand,  the  while  over  his  lapstone  he  dis- 
cussed with  his  neighbors  the  politics  of  the  day,  or  told  marvellous 
stories  of  the  sea  and  its  perils.  The  fisheries  have  long  since  passed 
away,  and  the  connected  industry  has  developed  into  the  chief  business 
of  the  town,  its  broader  and  more  scientific  development  taking  the 
form  of  complex  labor-saving  machinery,  in  great  buildings,  and  with 
battalions  of  trained  workmen.  This  industry  suffered  great  losses  by 
fires,  in  1H77  and  188s,  which  swept  away  all  the  district  of  shoe-fac- 
tories. 

Cotton  Mather  says  that  when  a  Puritan  minister  preached  to  the 
Marbleheaders.  exhorting  them  to  be  a  religious  people,  lest  the  pur- 
pose of  the  foundation  of  Massachusetts  should  be  frustrated,  a  fisher- 
man spoke  up  :  ••  Sir.  you  are  mistaken.  You  think  you  are  preaching 
to  the  people  at  the  Bay.  Our  main  end  is  to  catch  fish.''  These  men 
were  without  government  for  nearly  half  a  century,  because  in  Massa- 
chusetts no  one  hut  church-members  could  hold  ollice :  and  Marblehead 
had  no  church-members.  Her  people  came  here  for  lisli  and  fight,  and 
their  chief  luxury  was  a  glass  of  grog  and  a  pipeful  of  "dog-leg" 
or  ••  pig-tail."  But  they  were  an  honest  and  fearless  tribe.- — sturdy, 
generous,  and  warmhearted. 

old  St.  Michael's,  the  third  Episcopal  church  in  Massachusetts 
(coming  after  King's  Chapel,  Boston,  and  Queen  Anne's  Chapel.  Xe\v- 
bury).  was  built  in  1711.  of  materials  brought  from  England,  and  the. 
stanch  oak  timbers  from  the  mother-land  still  uphold  the  edifice,  which 
was  refitted  in  ISSN,  and  provided  with  a  number  of  beautiful  memorial 
windows  of  stained  i^lass,  one  of  them  presented  by  the  Senate  of 
Massachusetts.  The  chandelier  \vas  given  by  ••John  Klbridire.  esq., 
of  ye  city  of  Bristol.  17:!2:"  the  reredos  in  the  chancel  came  also  from 
English  benefactors:  and  some  of  the  trees  in  the  church-yard  were 
brought  from  Canterbury.  The  royal  arms  were  torn  down  from  the 
reredos  .ind  de-t roved  by  Marblehead  patriots,  \\-ho  also  ranu'  the 
church-bell  until  it  fell  to  pieces. 


29 


30 

It  was  at  Marblehead,  in  1819,  that  the  young  Methodist  preacher, 
afterwards  world-renowned  under  the  title  of  Father  Taylor,  came 
down  to  save  a  sinking  church,  and  found  an  unexpected  reward  in  the 
lovely  Deborah  Millett,  who  became  his  wife,  the  famous  Mother  Tay- 
lor of  the  next  fifty  years.  Looking  across  one  day  from  the  cliffs  of 
Xahant  to  the  gray  houses  of  Marblehead,  the  great  evangelist  jubi- 
lantly cried  out:  "  There  I  found  a  jewel." 

Of  all  the  smaller  harbors  on  the  coast,  this  is  the  favorite  haven  of 
yachtsmen,  and  on  the  blue  sea  outside  are  the  best  courses  for  racing. 
For  the  last  few  years  these  waters  have  been  visited  by  the  best 
yachts  in  the  world.  Volunteer,  Mayflower,  Puritan,  Priscilla,  Gcnesta, 
Galatea,  lying  at  anchor  in  the  snug  little  harbor  for  days,  and  then 
spreading  to  the  breeze  vast  clouds  of  snowy  canvas,  and  stretching  to 


§55" 


TORT    PEWAT.T,,    MARBLEHEAD. 


seaward  until  they  sink  below  the  distant  liori/.on.  Three  large  yacht- 
clubs  have  their  houses  on  this  harbor,  —  the  Eastern,  the  Corinthian, 
and  the  Bay-View  (the  latter  being  on  Goodwin's  Head). 

On  the  east  end  of  the  Marblehead  peninsula,  at  Peach's  Point, 
Benjamin  W.  Crowninshield  has  established  a  village  of  summer-cot- 
tages, with  pleasant  grounds.  Farther  around,  at  Xaugus  Head,  are 
the  remains  of  a  fortress,  built  during  the  Civil  War.  and  overlooking 
Salem  Harbor. 

A  little  over  a  mile  outside  of  Marblehead  Light  is  Lowell  Island, 
with  its  <j:reat  building,  designed  and  for  some  years  used  a^  a  summer- 
liotel.  havinir  been  erected  by  the  Lowell  Railroad  to  dra\v  snmmer- 
travel  over  their  route.  It  was  latterly  purchased  by  Frederick  H. 


31 

Rindge,  of  California  (formerly  of  Cambridge),  and  endowed  as  a  sani- 
tarium for  convalescent  children  of  poor  families,  under  the  care  of 
Episcopalian  sisters. 

Marblehead  Neck,  the  fashionable  summer-resort  and  the  headquar- 
ters of  the  Eastern  Yacht-Club,  lifts  its  half-league  of  rocky  hills  to 
the  eastward  of  the  ancient  town,  across  the  harbor,  and  towards  the 
open  sea.  Lying  thus  between  the  harbor  and  the  ocean,  it  is  all  but 
an  island,  being  joined  to  the  mainland  only  by  the  low  isthmus  of 
Riverhead  Beach,  nearly  a  mile  long.  A  capital  road  encircles  the  en- 
tire domain,  and  runs  out  as  far  as  the  light-house  on  the  extreme 
point,  affording  one  of  the  grandest  drive-ways  on  the  coast.  The 
views  include  the  quaint  old  town  and  gray  wharves  of  Marblehead, 


DISTANT    ViK\V 


M  A  I!  HI.  KM  K  AD    I.IOIIT. 


with   Beverly  and    Manchester.  Magnolia  and  (iloucester.  beyond, 
across  the  Misery  and   Baker's  Islands:   while  toward  the  south  ap 
Xaliant,  Kgg  Hock.  Lynn,  the  outer  guards  of  Boston  Har 
noble  Blue  Hills  of  Milton. 

The  peninsula  is  composed  of  trap-  rock,  with  st  rat  a  and 
porphyry,  quart/,  and   inferior  granite.     The  area  i-  two 
sixty  acres,  n  bleak  and  almost   treeles^  tract,  amid  \\hieh 
stand  unrelieved,  save  by  the  sapphire  background  of  the 

The  causeway  which  forms  the  stein  to  the  irreat  pear-s 
sula  was  built   on  a   sandy  liar,  broken   through   in  I  he   MinotS-I.edu 
storm,  when  the  harbor  was  uellni^h   ruined.      In  driving  arro-~.  th 


32 

roaring  of  the  sea,  the  beautiful  views  over  the  waters,  and  the  smell 
of  kelp  and  sea-weed  give  continual  pleasure. 

The  Nanepasliemet,  the  chief  hotel,  occupies  an  admirable  situation 
high  on  the  bluff  over  the  sea,  and  commanding  views  of  vast  extent 
and  unrivalled  beauty.  The  name  of  this  hostelry  was  that  of  the 
ancient  Indian  chieftain  of  this  region.  Henry  Guy  Carleton  says  that 
but  one  man  ever  tried  to  pronounce  it.  and  he  died  the  day  after,  of  a 
broken  jaw.  The  hotel  is  one  mile  from  Devereux  station,  on  the 
Swampscott  Branch  (seventeen  miles  from  Boston) ;  and  public  con- 
veyances run  each  way  to  and  from  trains.  A  steam  ferry-boat  also 
plies  between  Murblehead  and  the  Neck,  crossing  the  little  harbor. 


EASTERN    YACHT-CLUB    HOUSE,    MARRLfCHEAD    NECK. 

Among  scores  of  cottages  along  the  Neck  arc  the  summer-residences 
of  several  distinguished  men.  who  lind  in  this  retreat  true  recreation 
and  repose.1.  There  are  also  many  handsome  estates  which  are  leased 
every  season  to  families  from  the  cities:  and  a  few  small  boarding- 
houses,  out  on  the  point  toward  the  light-house.  Oil'  this  cape  lies 
Marblchead  Rock,  whereon  the  old-time  tisliermen  used  to  cast  small 
coins,  when  outward  bound,  to  ensure  good  luck  and  a  full  fare. 

Amonir  the  interesting  localities  are  Castle  Kock.  with  its  mag- 
nilicent  marine  view:  the  Churn,  with  its  remarkable  surf  effects; 
Elephant  Kock;  and  other  phenomena  of  the  shore.  On  the  harbor 


side  are  the  great  villas  of  Charles  W.  Parker  and  Frank  Peabody,  of 
Boston;  and  also  the  summer-home  of  Edward  Burgess,  the  famous 
designer  of  yachts.  Maj.  D.  H.  Follett,  of  the  Massachusetts  artil- 
iery,  has  a  charming  place  at  Point  o'  Neck,  beyond  the  Livermore  and 
Walter  H.  Sweet  places.  One  of  the  most  elegant  estates  on  the  Neck 
pertains  to  Mrs.  Kimball,  of  Salem,  with  its  flower-lined  road  leading 
from  Ocean  Avenue.  On  the  harbor  side  are  the  great  admiralty  houses 
of  the  Eastern  Yacht-Club  and  the  Corinthian  Club,  gay  with  pennons 
and  banners,  and  frequented  by  the  most  expert  yachtsmen  in  the 
world. 

Let  us  leave  Marblehead  with  a  verse  or  two  of  Chadwick's  "By 
the  Sea-shore : " 

"  The  curved  strand 

Of  cool,  gray  eand 
Lies  like  a  sickle  by  the  sea; 

The  tide  is  low, 

But  soft  and  slow 
Is  creeping  higher  up  the  lea. 

The  beach-birds  fleet, 

With  twinkling  feet, 
Hurry  and  scurry  to  and  fro, 

And  sip,  and  chat 

Of  this  and  that 
Which  you  and  I  may  never  know. 

Each  higher  wave 

Doth  touch  and  lave 
A  million  pebbles  smooth  and  bright; 

Straightway  they  grow 

A  beauteous  show, 
With  hues  unknown  before  bedight. 

High  up  the  beach, 

Far  out  of  reach 
Of  common  tides  that  ebb  and  flow, 

The  drift-wood's  heap 

Doth  record  keep 
Of  storms  that  perished  long  ago. 

Where  ends  the  beach, 

The  cliffs  upreach 
Their  lichen-wrinkled  foreheads  old; 

And  here  I  rest, 

While  all  the  west 
Grows  brighter  with  the  sunset's  gold." 


CHAPTER    IV. 

SflIiE|VI. 

THE  INDIAN  CORN-FIELDS. — ASIATIC  COMMKRCE. — FAMOUS  SALEMITES. 
—  THE  SIDON  OF  AMEHICA. — BIRTHPLACE  OF  HAWTHOKXE.  —  ST. 
PETER'S. — VAST  COLLECTIONS  OF  RARE  CURIOSITIES. — FIVE  SOCIAL 
STRATA. — THE  WILLOWS.  —  SALEM  HARBOR  AND  ITS  ISLANDS.— 
SALEM  TUNNEL. — BEVERLY. 

TURNING  back  refreshed  from  our  marine  excursion  down  the 
shores  of  Swampscott  and  Marblehead,  we  may  go  forward  again 
on  the  main  line  of  railroad,  from  Swampscott.  across  a  singu- 
larly arid  and  inhospitable  region  of  low  rocky  hills,  solemn 
evergreens,  blue  waters  of  ponds  and  streams,  secluded   farms,  and 
vast  gray  and  lichen-covered  ledges.     If  we  do  not  wish  to  return  from 
Marblehead  by  the  Swampscott  Branch,  we  may  ride  direct  to  Salem  by 
the  Marblehcad  Branch,  entering  the  main  line  near  the  deep  cut  at 
Castle  Hill.     Anon  we  approach  the  gray  old  houses  of   Salem,  the 
mother-city  of  the  Massachusetts  colony,  crossing  the  pond  at  whose 
outlet  once  stood  the  mills  that  cut  up  the  Honduras  mahogany  brought 
hither  by  the  Salem  ships. 

Edmund  Gosse,  the  English  poet  and  critic,  wrote:  ';I  had  a  won- 
derful day  at  Salem.  A  soft  sea-mist  hung  over  the  town  as  I  wandered 
about  it.  I  was  deeply  impressed  with  the  strange  sentiment  of  the 
place,  and  walked  about  the  streets  until  I  was  thoroughly  soaked  with 
the  old  Puritan  spirit."  In  such  spirit  of  impressibility  every  visitor 
should  enter  the  dear  old  mother-city  of  Massachusetts,  and  recall, 
amidst  its  practical  activities  of  today,  the  legends  and  traditions  of 
the  past  quarter  of  a  millennium.  For  it  was  away  back  in  1C>2(!.  when 
he  found  that  Cape  Ann's  bare  rocks  and  ••  immeasurable  expanse  of 
lofty  forests  shrouded  in  the  gloom  of  ages  "  gave  his  little  colony  only 
a  point  of  vantage  for  lishing,  without  opportunities  for  cultivating 
corn  or  pasturing  the  cattle  that  the  Dorchester  Company  had.  that 
Roger  Conant  led  thirty  of  his  people  to  Naumkeag.  the  site  of  Salem, 
and  established  them  there.  Like  Boston  and  Plymouth,  and  other 
New-England  towns,  Salem  was  settled  in  the  clearings  made  by  the 
7ndians  for  their  corn-fields,  trees  then  being  abhorred  by  the  colonists, 
and  one  of  the  chief  advantages  of  the  site  being  (in  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Higginson's  words)  that  there  was  ••not  a  tree  in  the  same."  For 
some  time  the  Indians  and  English  planted  the  Meld*  in  common. 


35 

The  charter  given  by  the  Council  of  Plymouth  to  Conant's  men  was 
superseded  by  a  new  one,  under  which  Gov.  John  Endicott  and  his 
colonists  landed  at  Salem,  in  Ki'28,  incorporating  the  town  the  year  fol- 
lowing, and  making  it  the  capital  of  Massachusetts. 

The  usual  mode  of  travelling  between  the  little  log-built  villages 
along  the  Massachusetts  coast  was  in  dug-outs  or  canoes,  made  by 
hollowing  out  pine  logs  twenty  feet  long  and  not  quite  a  yard  wide. 
In  such  frail  vessels  the  sportsmen  of  the  colonial  days  "  went  fowling 
two  leagues  to  sea." 

It  has  been  pointed  out  that  the  great  commerce  of  Salem  and  of 
Venice  had  much  in  common,  both  beginning  by  the  free  boating  of 
farmers  and  fishers  on  convenient  waters  about  their  homes ;  rising  to 
high  prosperity  by  sending  salt-fish  to  Catholic  countries ;  and  further 
aggrandized  by  importing  Oriental  silks  and  spices,  and  other  precious 
commodities.  In  less  than  forty  years  the  navigation  had  increased  so 
greatly  that  when  the  Indians  broke  out  in  war,  in  1077,  they  seized 
thirteen  Salem  ketches  (ketched  them,  perchance),  "and  captivated 
the  men,"  by  reason  of  which,  and  to  somehow  help  the  captivated 
fishermen,  the  First  Church  kept  a  solemn  fast.  The  subsequent  rise 
of  a  world-embracing  commerce  here,  and  the  achievements  of  its 
sea-kings,  form  one  of  the  most  glorious  chapters  in  American  history. 
Here  were  the  very  first  vessels  to  open  our  commerce  with  Calcutta 
and  Bombay,  Arabia  and  Madagascar,  Batavia  and  Australia,  Para  and 
Montevideo,  Zanzibar  and  Sumatra,  and  the  ports  of  China. 

"  .Sonic  native,  merchant  of  the  East,  they  nay, 
(Whether  Canton,  Calcutta,  or  Bombay), 
Had  in  his  counting-room  a  map,  whereon 
Across  the  tiekl  in  capitals  was  drawn 
The  name  of  Salem,  meant  to  represent 
That  Salem  was  the  Western  ( 'ontinent, 
While  in  an  upper  corner  was  put  down 
A  dot  named  Boston,  SAI>EJI'S  leading  town." 

—  < '.  T.  Brnnks. 

Many  volumes  (and  right  interesting  ones,  too)  could  be  written  of 
the  past  and  present  citizens  of  Salem, —  of  Frederick  Townshend 
Ward,  admiral-general  and  high  mandarin  of  China,  and  the  foremost 
soldier  of  the  empire;  of  Jones  Very,  the  inspired  recluse  poet  and 
mystic,  the  Western  George  Herbert;  of  Col.  J.  W.  Kabens,  the  best 
of  whose  poems  was  that  brilliant  college-song,  '-The  Last  Ciirar:" 
of  Charles  H.  Foster,  the  world-renowned  Spiritualist,  "the  modern 
Cagliostro;"  of  Mary  E.  C.  Wyeth.  the  ••  Ethel  Gray"  of  poetic  litera- 
ture; of  Goody  Spencer,  an  exile  from  England,  who  lir-t  introduced 
candy  Gibraltar*  to  American  youth:  of  Charles  T.  Brook^.  poet  him- 
self, and  translator  of  Goethe  and  Ivichter:  of  Gen.  James  Miller,  the 
hero  of  Lundy's  Lane:  of  Gen.  I-rael  I'utnam.  one  of  \Va~hiiiLrton'^ 
bravest  officers ;  of  Benjamin  Thompson,  afterwards  Count  Utimford. 


36 

and  prime  minister  of  Bavaria;  of  John  Rogers,  the  sculptor;  of  W. 
H.  Prescott,  the  historian  of  Mexico  and  Peru ;  of  Gen.  F.  W.  Lander, 


1.    South  Church,  !?:ilcin. 


2.     North  Church,  Salem. 


one  of  the  heroes  and  victims  of   the  Civil  War;  of   Eradstreet  and 
EnUicott.  Pickering  and  Cabot,  liowditch  and  Peirce,  Derbv  and  Crown- 


37 

inshield,  and  scores  of  others,  proudly  conspicuous  in  the  annals  of 
America  and  of  the  world. 

The  aristocratic  old  families  of  Salem  —  the  Endicotts,  Crownin- 
shields,  Tuckermans,  Silsbees.  Peabodys,  Kantouls,  and  a  few  others  — 
have  enjoyed  the  advantages  of  wealth  and  ability,  singly  or  together, 
ever  since  the  foundation  of  Massachusetts,  and  are  reputed  to  be 
singularly  exclusive,  because  satisfied  in  their  own  charmed  circle. 
On  Essex  Street  is  the  venerable  colonial-looking  house  of  William 
C.  Endicott,  Secretary  of  War  of  the  United  States  during  President 
Cleveland's  administration. 

You  may  ramble  at  will  down  the  quiet  old  semi-rural  streets,  under 
their  lines  of  spreading  trees,  and  study  the  great  mansions  of  dull  red 


EAST-INDIA    MAIUNK    UAI.L,    SALEM. 

brick,  ivy-grown  and  secluded,  when'  the  East-India  merchant";  dwell 
in  stately  simplicity  and  grave  decorum,  in  that  far-past  time  when 
Salem  was  the  Sidon  of  America.  Here  are  quaint  old  dame-schools 
and  cent-shops,  architecture  of  the  Georgian  era.  and  everywhere 
memories  of  Alice  Pynchcon  and  Wi/ard  Manle  and  Doctor  Grim>ha\ve 
and  other  creatures  of  the  romancer's  fancy. 

If  time  allows,  you  may  go  down  to  the  old  North  Bridge,  and  >ee 
the  granite  and  bron/.e  memorial,  showing  where  three  hundred  British 
troops  under  Lieut. -Col.  Leslie  were  sent  hack  to  their  boat-  by  armed 
Essex:  or  the  Peabody  house,  on  Charles  Street,  where  Hawthorne 
wooed  his  wife  ;  or  Nathaniel  BowditehV.  birthplace,  on  Kimball  ( 'ourt  : 
or  Rufus  Choate's  house,  at  \'2  Lvnde  Street:  or  the  Narbonne  hon-e. 


38 

at  71  Essex  Street,  built  before  1680;  or  the  quaint  old  brick  city-hall, 
with  its  valuable  portraits  of  Saltonstall,  Lafayette,  and  Washington; 
or  the  birthplace  of  Timothy  Pickering,  at  18  Broad  Street,  still  in  the 
Pickering  family ;  or  Gallows  Hill  (near  the  Peabody  horse-railroad), 
where  the  alleged  witches  were  put  to  death,  in  1602 :  or  the  Essex- 
County  court-house,  with  Vinton's  portrait  of  Judge  Otis  P.  Lord  and 
William  M.  Hunt's  portrait  of  Chief-Justice  Shaw;  or  the  State  Normal 
School,  on  Broad  Street;  or  the  handsome  neo-colonial  post-office,  118 
Washington  Street ;  or  the  Old-Ladies'  Home,  in  the  Crowninshield 
mansion,  114  Derby  Street;  or  the  Common,  also  called  Washington 
Square,  set  apart  in  1714  for  a  training-field,  and  surrounded  by  double 
rows  of  elms  ;  or  the  custom-house  on  Derby  Street,  now  seventy  years 
old,  with  its  memories  and  relics  of  Hawthorne,  and  the  sea-viewing 


OLD   CUSTOM-HOUSE,    SALEM. 

cupola  where  the  great  novelist  used  to  coin  his  airy  fancies ;  or  the 
old  Dr.  Grimshawe  house,  with  its  spidery  legends. 

And  for  a  longer  excursion  yon  may  ride  to  Pcabody.  the  great 
leather-manufacturing  town,  with  its  Peabody  Institute,  enshrining  a 
magnificent  portrait  of  Queen  Victoria,  presented  by  her  to  George 
Peabody.  painted  on  a  sheet  of  pure  gold.  Here,  also,  is  a  handsome 
modern  town-hall:  and  the  grave  of  Eliza  Wharton.  There  is  another 
interesting  trip  to  Danvcrs.  with  the  famous  old  Collins  house,  and 
other  architectural  and  legendary  antiquities. 

Down  on  narrow  Union  Street,  at  No.  21.  overhanging  the  sidewalk, 
is  the  old  dormer-roofed,  huire-chimnied  house  in  whose  upper  north- 
east corner-room  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  was  born,  in  the  year  1804. 
The  house  is  now  occupied  by  an  Irish  family,  whose  hard-working 


39 

mother  and  head  at  times  allows  visitors  to  see  the  chamber  hallowec 
by  the  birth  of  America's  greatest  novelist. 

Hawthorne  himself  has  said  that  the  House  of  the  Seven  Gable; 
was  a  creature  of  his  imagination,  solely,  but  the  quaint  old  house 
(built  in  1GC2)  in  Turner  Street,  the  last  on  the  right-hand  side  goin< 
from  Derby  Street,  doubtless  gave  him  many  suggestions  for  the  won 
derful  romance.  It  was  one  of  his  favorite  haunts,  and  in  it  he  wrot< 
-The  Grandfather's  Chair."  Amid  such  scenes  passed  much  of  th< 
life  of  "the  New-England  Chaucer,"  whom  a  noted  Boston  wit  de 
scribed  so  well  in  saying  :  "  He  looks  like  a  born  pirate." 


OLD    WITCH    HOUSK,    SALEM. 

The  Roger-Williams  house.  I'.IO  Essex  Street,  at  the  corner  of  North 
Street,  belonged  in  ]i;:;."-:>i;  to  Roger  Williams,  the  founder  of  Rhode 
Island:  and  there  exists  a  tradition  that  the  preliminary  trials  ,->f  the 
witches  were  held  here,  in  K!!12. 

Old  St.  Peter's  Church,  with  its  dark  granite  walls  and  chapel,  its 
memorial  tablets  and  tombs,  and  it-  ponderou-  tower  upholding  a 
sweet  chime  of  bells,  was  the  tirst  Protestant-Episcopal  church  in  New 


40 

England,  founded  in  1639  by  John  and  Samuel  Browne ;  and  the  pres- 
ent ediflce  was  erected  by  Bishop  Griswold,  in  1833. 

The  Peabody  Academy  of  Science  occupies  East-India  Marine  Hall 
(161  Essex  Street),  with  an  immense  and  interesting  collection  of 
curiosities  from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

The  Essex  Institute  owns  and  occupies  the  princely  old  Tucker- 
Deland  mansion,  next  to  Plummer  Hall,  with  its  library  and  collections, 
of  great  antiquarian  and  historical  value. 

Plummer  Hall,  at  No.  134  Essex  Street,  on  the  site  of  Gov.  Simon 
Bradstreet's  house,  and  William  H.  Prescott's  birthplace,  was  built  in 
1857  for  the  Salem  Athena?um  (founded  in  1810),  and  contains  rich  por- 
traits by  Copley  and  Smibert,  and  historical  paintings,  relics  of  the 
Puritan  pioneers,  old  maps  and  prints,  autographs  and  medals,  and  a 
noble  library-hall.  Just  back  of  Plummer  Hall  is  the  First-Church 
building,  which  was  erected  in  1034,  became  "a  skoole  house  and 
watch-house"  in  1670,  when  a  larger  church  was  built.  In  1760  the 
town  sold  it,  and  it  served  for  many  years  as  a  tavern.  In  1864,  the 
sturdy  frame  was  re-erected  on  its  present  place,  and  placed  within  a 
good  covering.  In  this  oldest  of  American  Protestant  churches,  with 
its  quaint  little  gallery,  are  preserved  some  interesting  curiosities, — 
Hawthorne's  and  Bowditch's  desks,  spinets,  spinning-wheels,  and  vari- 
ous ecclesiastical  relics. 

The  collections  of  curiosities  in  Plummer  Hall,  East-India  Marine 
Hall,  and  the  Essex  Institute  are  so  great  as  to  defy  outline,  but  every 
one  should  see  them,  aided  by  the  kindly  old  custodians  and  the  official 
catalogues.  The  East-India  Marine  Society  was  founded  in  1799,  by 
the  masters  and  supercargoes  of  ships  that  had  made  the  great  voyage 
to  the  East  Indies. 

Time  and  space  fail  us  to  tell  of  the  witchcraft  persecution  of  two 
centuries  ago  ;  the  campaigns  of  the  old  First  Massachusetts  Regiment, 
back  in  the  Stuart  era;  the  gallant  deeds  of  hundreds  of  Salem  priva- 
teers on  the  high  seas ;  the  valor  of  the  three  thousand  soldiers  who 
went  from  this  town  into  the  Civil  War ;  and  many  other  picturesque 
episodes  of  long  ago.  The  true  color  of  the  past  is  shown  in  such 
delightful  recent  books  as  Eleanor  Putnam's  "Old  Salem,"  Marianne 
C.  D.  Silsbee's  "A  Half-Century  of  Salem."  and  Henry  M.  Brooks's 
"Olden-Time  Series,"  besides  Hawthorne's  romances  and  notes  and 
biography. 

Of  late  years  there  has  sprung  up  a  new  Salem  within  the  old.  a 
metropolis  for  the  adjacent  populous  towns  of  Essex  South,  with  active 
manufactories,  richly  endowed  scientific  institutions  of  continental 
fame,  and  a  brilliant  local  society,  made  up  in  part  of  cultivated  immi- 
ijres  from  Boston,  who  find  here  the  choicest  advantages  of  urban  life, 
in  a  venerable  and  classic  city.  Here  dwell  Edward  S.  Morse,  the  fore- 
most of  connoisseurs  in  Japanese  pottery,  and  whose  collection  is  the 
finest  in  the  world:  Philip  Little,  the  architect  of  the  neo-colonial ; 


41 

Ross  Turner,  the  artist;  Henry  M.  Brooks,  the  courtly  old  antiquary; 
and  many  another  notable  person.  The  population  of  the  city  is  about 
twenty-eight  thousand,  whom  a  connoisseur  in  local  ethnology  groups 
into  five  clearly  distinct  and  unmingling  classes, —  the  descendents  of 
the  first  settlers  who  were  of  gentle  blood  in  England,  like  the  Salton- 
stalls ;  the  families  of  the  colonial  yeomanry,  like  the  Dexters ;  the 
people  of  other  communities  long  since  drawn  to  Salem,  and  distin- 
guished for  ability  or  culture,  like  the  Grays  and  Bertrams;  the  com- 
fortable tradespeople  moving  in  from  elsewhere ;  and  the  operatives 
of  every  nationality.  It  will  be  remembered  how  the  condescending 
Henry  James,  in  writing  about  Hawthorne,  covered  the  whole  commu- 
nity with  an  ignoble  mantle  of  provincial  narrowness,  and  how  brightly 
and  gallantly  certain  of  the  Salem  gentry  gave  answer  to  the  great  cos- 
mopolitan pessimist. 

You  may  take  the  horse-cars  in  twenty  minutes  to  The  Willows,  the 
north-eastern  part  of  Salem  Neck,  on  the  old-time  Hospital  Point,  look- 
ing out  on  the  beautiful  Beverly  shores,  the  craggy  strands  of  Marble- 
head,  and  the  green  islands  and  level  horizons  of  the  outer  harbor. 
This  is  the  favorite  picnic-ground  of  Salem,  with  pavilions  and  dining- 
rooms,  fire-works  and  flying-horses,  boats  and  bath-houses,  bowling- 
alleys  and  rinks,  shooting-ranges,  electric  lights,  and  other  diversions. 
At  the  other  end  of  Salem  Neck,  on  Winter  Island,  is  the  summer-resort 
of  Juniper  Point,  with  its  hotels  and  cottages,  and  lovely  views  of  the 
harbor  and  its  islands,  and  Massachusetts  Bay. 

Salem  Neck  also  has  the  fading  ruins  of  the  two  forts,  Lee  and  Pick- 
ering, the  one  on  high  ground  commanding  the  outer  harbor,  and  the 
other  frowning  on  the  inner  channels,  but  garrisoned  only  by  mild-eyed 
cows,  and  with  its  magazine  used  only  for  the  storage  of  butter  and 
milk.  Alongside  the  battery  rises  the  shapely  tower  of  the  light-house. 

Farther  down  the  bay  rise  the  two  light-houses  on  Baker's  Island, 
a  bold  and  rocky  bluff  of  about  sixty  acres,  with  a  summer  boarding- 
house  on  its  westerly  side.  Here  also  are  the  Misery  Isles,  which  have 
been  dug  over  by  Spiritualists,  in  search  of  buried  treasures. 


Passing  out  from  the  castle-like  stone  station  of  Salem,  the  cars 
rumble  into  the  long,  dark  Salem  'runnel,  for  half  a  century  happily 
known  as  the  ••  Kissing-Bridge"  of  this  route,  and  the  Im-uli-  of  more 
than  one  bright  oscillatory  poem.  And  it  maybe  mentioned  here  I  hat 
Dr.  Holmes,  or  some  equally  good  authority,  has  declared  that  the 
prettiest  girls  in  America  are  those  of  the  three  ••Ports"  on  this  rail- 
way.—  Newburyport.  Portsmouth,  and  Portland. 

Too  soon  the  romantic  shade-;  of  the  tunnel  are  left  behind,  and 
the  broad  lagoon  of  North  15'ivcr  opens  on  the  left,  bordered  by  several 
manorial  estates  of  old  Salem  families.  Then  a  loiiir  bridge  is  trav- 
ersed, with  the  highwav  bridge  beyond,  and  the  -DHL;-  berth  between 


42 

the  two  occupied  by  the  moorings  of  a  line  of  yachts.  This  famous 
Beverly  Bridge  had  its  centennial  celebration  in  the  year  1888.  Still 
farther  to  the  eastward,  beyond  Salem  Neck  and  The  Willows,  opens 
a  broad  reach  of  the  blue  sea,  studded  by  the  islands  off  Salem  Harbor, 
—  the  Great  Misery  and  Baker's  Islands,  with  tall  light-houses. 


Beverly  covers  a  group  of  pleasant  streets  between  Bass  River 
and  Mackerel  Cove,  with  about  five  thousand  inhabitants,  and  ten  good 
churches.  Here  Conant  and  Balch  and  others  of  the  old  Dorchester 
Company  settled,  in  1630,  after  the  Endicott  colony  took  possession  of 
Salem ;  and  about  forty  years  later  the}'  petitioned  the  General  Court 
to  change  the  name  of  the  town.  "  because,  we  being  but  a  small  place, 
it  has  caused  us  a  constant  nickname  of  Beggarly."  The  first  Britannia 
works  and  the  first  cotton-mill  in  America  were  established  here. 

The  first  naval  vessel  sent  out  by  the  Continental  Congress  was 
the  Hannah,  of  Beverly,  whose  captain  was  commissioned  by  Wash- 
ington, Sept.  2,  1775.  So  the  Rattlesnake  flag  floated  over  the  harbor 
of  Beverly,  under  the  authority  of  the  United  States,  was  the  very 
first  national  American  naval  ensign  spread  to  the  breeze. 

The  seafaring  occupations  of  the  citizens  brought  them  great  gain 
for  many  years,  and  carried  them  into  far  foreign  waters,  but  all  this 
has  since  passed  away,  and  the  wharves  are  crumbling  to  ruin,  and  the 
fish-flakes  have  vanished  from  the  headlands.  In  the  new  regime,  it  is 
a  place  of  shoe-factories,  full  of  peaceful  activity  and  comfortable 
competence.  There  are  forty  firms  engaged  in  this  business,  employ- 
ing two  thousand  operatives,  and  with  an  annual  product  of  over  three 
millions  of  dollars. 

In  her  "  Skipper  Ben."  Lucy  Larcom  makes  us  listen  to  the 

"  Beverly  bells! 
Kins?  to  the  tide  as  it  ebbs  and  swells." 

Let  us  hear  also  Miss  Larcom's  poetical  rendering  of  the  geography 
of  our  Xorth  Shore  : 

"  You  can  ride  in  an  hour  or  two,  if  you  will, 
From  Halibut  Point  to  Beacon  Hill, 
With  the  sea  beside  you  all  the  way, 
Through  the  pleasant  places  that  skirt  the  bay; 
By  Gloucester  Harbor  and  Beverly  Beach, 
Salem,  witch. haunted,  Xahant's  Ions?  reach, 
Blue-bordered  Swampscott  and  Chelsea's  wide 
Marshes,  laid  bare  to  the  drenching  tide, 
With  a  glimpse  of  Suutrus  spire  in  the  west, 
And  Maiden  hills  wrapped  in  dreamy  rest.'' 

It  is  at  Beverly  that  the  Gloucester  Branch  leaves  the  main  line  and 
runs  eastward  along  the  coast  to  the  tip  of  Cape  Ann.  seventeen  miles 
away.  This  region  is  one  of  the  great  summer-parks  of  New  England, 
and  in  fancy  \vc  must  run  down  through  its  rare  maritime  charms,  and 
get  a  passing  glimpse  of  the  great  headland  of  granite. 


43 


CHAPTER  V. 

CflPE 

BEVERLY  SHORES.  —  MONTSERRAT.  —  PRIDE'S  CROSSING.  —  BEVERLY 
FARMS.  — WEST  M.VXCII KSTEK.  —  MAXCHESTER-HY-THE-SEA.  —  THE 
MASCONOMO. — WILLIAM  BLACK. —  A  FIXE  MEMORIAL  LIBRARY. — 
MAGXOLIA. —  HTXT'S  STUDIO. — HAKE'S  CHASM. — NOKMAX'S  WOE. 
—  GLOUCESTER.  — BASS  HOCKS.  — ROCKPOHT.  —  PKJEOX  COVE.  — 
ANNISQUAM. 

BT  Beverly  the  Gloucester  Branch  swings  off  to  the  right  from  the 
main  line  and  runs  to  the  north-east,  out  by  the  famous  summer- 
resorts  of  Cape  Ann,  "  the  land  of  rocks  and  roses,"  with  many 
a  glimpse  of  the  wide  blue  sea,  the  rugged  isles  off  shore,  the 
villas  of  the  wealthy  summer-colonists,  and  the  invincible  wildernesses 
of  leclgy  hills  and  sea-blown  woods  which  constitute  the  greater  part 
of  the  cape,  and  have  a  weird  and  singular  picturesqueness  in  the  eyes 
of  dwellers  in  more  fertile  lands.  Beverly  is  just  half-way  from 
Boston  to  Rockport.  which  is  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  cape  and  of 
the  railroad. 

'Pile  line  of  coast  eastward  begins  with  seven  long  miles  within 
Beverly  town,  with  groups  of  handsome  summer-cottages  at  Hospital 
Point.  Curtis  Point,  and  along  to  Beverly  Farms, —  a  little  Riviera, 
facing  the  bland  south,  and  blessed  with  a  benign  and  equable  climate. 
For  fully  sixty  seasons,  it  lias  been  a  favorite  summer-home  for  well- 
known  Boston  families,  and  during  the  last  twenty  years  land  here  has 
increased  in  value  to  an  enormous  degree. 

Montserrat  station  is  not  far  from  the  old  Cove  Village,  and  the 
beautiful  estates  on  Hospital  Point,  oecupied  by  Henry  \V.  Peabody. 
A.  A.  Lawrence,  diaries  Kndicott,  and  other  gentlemen.  The  locality 
was  named  by  Beverly  sailors,  in  the  days  of  her  maritime  glory,  from 
Montserrat.  in  Spain.  The  road  to  the  sea  dips  away  thronirh  a  deep 
forest  which  screen-  all  vision  of  the  paradise  beyond. 

The  shores  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Pride's-Crossinir  station  are  occu- 
pied by  a  series  of  tine  summer-estates,  witli  wide  parks,  aim  facing 
the  blue  sea.  The  pioneer  of  this  delightful  region  was  Mr.  ('.(',.  I.or- 
inir.  of  Boston,  in  the  year  1st  I.  four  year--  before  the  railroad  ^a- 
built:  and  soon  afterward  Robert  Treat  Paine  bought  lands  here  for 
six  thousand  dollars,  from  which  over  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollar-' 
worth  has  >ince  been  sold.  a\\  this  e-tate  mm  Maud--  Mr-.  Tv-on'- 


44 

house,  high  up  on  Eagle  Rock,  a  castellated  stone  building  one  hundred 
and  thirty-two  feet  long,  with  towers ;  and  also  the  costly  Queen-Anne 
villa  of  Eugene  V.  R.  Thayer.  Here  also  stands  the  handsome  house 
of  Gen.  Charles  G.  Loring,  erected  by  the  famous  architect,  W.  R. 
Emerson.  The  great  castle  of  the  late  Henry  P.  Kidder,  the  Boston 
banker,  cost  two  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  its  land  one  hundred 
thousand  more,  but  the  owner  did  not  live  to  occupy  it.  The  Morse 
domain  contains  three  villas  of  the  Morse  family,  and  that  of  Dr.  Shat- 
tuck.  Toward  Beverly  are  the  estates  of  Gen.  Palfrey,  "William  Endi- 
cott,  and  Charles  U.  Getting. 

Beverly  Farms  is  another  station  dependent  mainly  on  patrician 
summer-cottagers,  whose  handsome  carriages  roll  luxuriously  over  the 
adjacent  roads.  Opposite  is  the  great  estate  of  the  Hon.  Franklin 
Haven,  with  its  magnificent  lawn  sloping  down  toward  Great  Misery 
Island.  The  sea  is  not  visible,  but  a  short  ride  leads  to  the  beautiful 
West  Beach,  with  its  rugged  outer  guards  of  rocky  islands.  Beverly 
Farms  is  the  most  aristocratic  of  the  North-Shore  resorts,  for  its  sum- 
mer-residents are  among  the  flower  of  Boston  society,  and  there  are  no 
public  houses  or  hotels  to  break  the  charm  of  its  exclusiveness.  The 
villas  are  secluded  amid  foliage  and  shrubbery,  with  compensating 
glimpses  of  the  sea  and  its  islands.  Among  the  summer-residents  are 
Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  and  his  family. 

A  belt  of  pine  woods  lies  between  the  railway  and  the  sea,  traversed 
by  winding  drive-ways  leading  to  the  summer-cottages.  As  the  train 
crosses  Chubb's  Creek,  the  frontier  between  Beverly  and  Manchester, 
a  beautiful  view  opens  out  to  sea.  with  Great  Misery  Island  lying  hardly 
more  than  a  mile  away. 

A  little  way  beyond  Beverly  Farms,  on  the  shore  of  a  rocky  cove, 
down  which  one  looks  to  the  rugged  islands  outside,  is  the  station  of 
West  Manchester,  near  the  magnificent  hill-top  chati-an  of  Col.  Henry 
L.  Higginson.  and  the  summer-places  of  Dr.  Bartol.  X.  B.  Mansfield, 
the  Abbotts.  Boardmans.  and  other  Boston  families. 


Manchester-by-the-Sea  nestles  around  a  snug  little  harbor  on 
Massachusetts  Bay.  with  its  rare  variety  of  scenery,  wave-swept 
promontories  and  beaches,  quiet  rural  roads  winding  through  hedges 
and  hayticlds  and  deep  overarching  forests.  —  a  quaint  old  maritime 
village,  abounding  in  memorials  of  the  colonial  days.  Down  on  the 
point,  seaward  from  the  station,  rises  the  Masconomo  House,  built 
in  Is  7*  by  Juniiis  Brutus  Booth  and  named  for  the  chieftain  who.  two 
hundred  and  lifty  years  ai;o.  ruled  the  Indians  of  tins  region.  This 
place  is  famous  for  its  pastoral  performances  of  "As  You  Like  It  "and 
-A  Midsummer  Niirht'^  Dream."  For  Manchester  has  been  a  favorite 
resort  for  actors.  —  the  Booths.  Lewises.  SHueD'els.  Conways.  Joseph 


45 


4(5 

Proctor,  Mrs.  Bowers,  Osmond  Tearle,  Jefferson,  Warren,  and  other 
players  of  renown ;  and  in  the  old  Driver  place  John  Gilbert  spent 
twenty-five  or  more  summers. 

In  front  of  the  Masconomo  is  the  famous  Singing  Beach  (the  Old 
Neck  Beach  of  the  Provincial  days) ,  whose  sands  give  forth  a  musical 
sound  when  walked  upon  or  stirred.  The  only  other  sands  of  this 
kind  in  the  world  are  in  Arabia,  Scotland,  and  Hawaii. 

Gale's  Point  makes  out  from  the  beach  on  the  south,  with  several 
beautiful  summer-estates,  including  that  of  John  L.  Bremer.  Here 
also  is  the  Russell-Sturgis  estate,  and  the  quaint  little  Episcopal  chapel, 
so  precious  to  Mr.  Sturgis. 

The  far-viewing  Eagle  Head  rises  on  the  north  of  the  beach,  near 
the  Towne  and  Billiard  places,  and  farther  along  is  Dana's  (or  Graves) 
Beach,  running  out  to  the  sharp  cliffs  of  Shark's  Mouth.  Here  Richard 
H.  Dana,  sen.,  built  his  secluded  summer-cottage,  fifty  years  ago,  and 
among  these  wild  scenes  the  poet  of  "The  Buccaneer"  dwelt  for  many 
a  decade.  The  shores  hereabouts  are  also  described  by  Prof.  E.  P. 
Tenuey,  in  his  singular  Thoreau-like  novel,  "Coronation;"  and  by 
Admiral  Porter,  in  his  "Allan  Dare  and  Robert  le  Diablo." 

On  the  wild  Thunderbolt  Rock  rises  the  villa  of  the  late  James  T. 
Fields,  now  occupied  by  his  widow.  "What  do  you  think  ?"  said  a 
villager  to  Mr.  Fields,  long  ago;  "some  fool  has  purchased  Thunder- 
bolt Rock."  To  whom  the  genial  author  made  answer:  "Yes,  I 
bought  it  the  other  day."  He  named  the  locality  "  Manchester-by-the- 
Sea;"  and  Dr.  Holmes  made  sport  of  it  by  dating  his  letters,  "  Beverly  - 
by-the-Depot,"  and  Whittier  joined  in  with  the  superscription  of 
"  Danvers-among-the-Hollyhocks."  For  Holmes  and  Whittier,  Long- 
fellow and  Bayard  Taylor,  Miss  Jewett,  and  many  another  famous 
author,  have  been  guests  here;  and  also  William  Black,  who  wrote,  in 
"  Green  Pastures  and  Picadilly  :"  "  First  of  all  we  went  down  to  Man- 
chester, a  small,  scattered,  picturesque  watering-place,  overlooking 
Massachusetts  Bay,  the  Swiss-looking  cottages  of  wood  dotted  down 
everywhere  on  the  high  rocks  above  the  strand.  And  when  the  wild 
sunset  had  died  out  of  the  western  skies,  —  the  splendid  colors  had 
been  blinding  our  sight  until  we  turned  for  refuge  to  the  dark,  intense 
green  of  the  trees  in  shadow.  —  we  had  our  chairs  out  on  the  veranda 
up  here  on  the  rocks  over  tin-  sea.  We  heard  the  splashing  of  the 
waves  below;  we  could  vaguely  make  out  the  line  of  the  land  running 
away  out  to  Cape  Cod." 

The  Memorial  Library  and  Grand-Army  Hall  building  was  presented 
to  the  town  in  iss?  by  one  of  its  Boston  cottagers,  Mr.  T.  Jefferson 
Coolidge,  once  president  of  the  Atchison  railroad,  and  of  the  Somerset 
flub.  It  cost  forty-live  thousand  dollars,  and  is  of  seam-faced  rough 
stone,  with  memorial  windows.  Mexican-onyx  and  yellow  Numidian- 
marble  panels,  a  roof  suggested  by  that  of  Merton-College  Library,  in 
old  Oxford,  a  screen  made  of  fragments  of  mediaeval  oak-carving 


47 

brought  from  Morlaix,  in  Brittany,  and  a  picturesque  tower.  The 
architect  was  C.  F.  Mclviin.  Over  the  arch  are  Goethe's  words  :  Choose 
well,  your  choice  is  brief  and  yet  endless. 

Space  fails  to  tell  of  the  lovely  drives  through  the  perfumed  aisles 
of  the  Essex  Woods,  rich  in  mosses  and  ferns,  and  in  vistas  of  flicker- 
in?;  light,  and  the  music  of  the  pine-trees ;  of  the  many  rambles  along 
the  resounding  shore,  over  breezy  headlands  and  surf-swept  beaches; 
of  the  beautiful  villas  and  grounds  of  the  Wiggles  worths  and  Curtises 
and  Ilemenways,  and  other  noble  New-England  families ;  of  the  quaint 
old  village,  on  its  secluded  river-harbor,  with  its  tall  white  churches 
and  garden-border  '  colonial  houses. 


The  first  of  the  summer-cottagers  here  (after  Dana)  were  Kits-ell 
Sturgis.  jun.,  and  President  Billiard;  and  (lie  development  of  this  wild 
and  picturesque  strand  into  a  maritime  Bdgravia  has  -since  gone  fur- 
ward  amain,  until  the  valuation  of  the  town  has  grown  in  t \\eiity- 
tive  years  from  eight  hundred  thousand  dollars  to  nearly  four  million 
dollars. 

The  venerable  Ifev.  Dr.  ISartol.  the  chief  mover  in  the  development 
of  Manchester  as  a  sumnier-re-ort.  said  :  ••  The  men  once  here  had  the 
hoe  in  one  hand  and  the  gun  in  the  other.  The  earth-work-,  -till  re- 
main on  (ilass  Head  and  Norton's  Neck,  behind  which  they  lay  ready 
for  the  tight.  Next.  Manchester  was  a  li-hcry.  Sixty  -ail  of  vessels, 
law  and  small,  went  from  this  port.  The  wharves  and  stoue  steps 


48 


for  the  landing  of  their  freight  may  still  be  seen,  and  the  old  houses, 
decayed  or  transformed,  in  which  it  was  stored.  Lastly,  Manchester, 
in  our  day,  has  become  a  splendid  watering-place,  known  as  such 
throughout  the  United  States." 


Magnolia,  one  of  the  most  charming  of  our  Massachusetts-coast 
summer-resorts,  lies  about  a  league  to  the  southward  of  its  railway 
station,  on  a  rocky  point  projecting  into  the  sea,  with  rugged  dirt's  on 
one  side,  perpetually  fringed  with  surf,  and  on  the  other  the  beautiful 
sandy  curve  of  Crescent  Beach,  with  its  opportunities  for  sea-bathing. 

Public  carriages  meet  the  trains  at  Magnolia  station,  and  wind  down 
an  enchanting  little  wood-road,  amid  mingled  perfumes  of  the  sea  and 
the  pines,  and  with  many  glimpses  of  the  wide  blue  hori/on  towards 
Europe. 

The  obscure  little  fishing-hamlet  of  Kettle  Cove  has  within  a  quarter 
of  a  century  given  place  to  this  lovely  summer-village,  witli  its  score 
of  quaint  Elizabethan,  Dutch-colonial,  and  neo-colonial  cottages,  a 
half-dozen  hotels  and  boarding-houses  (Hesperus,  Ocean-Side,  Oak- 
drove,  Crescent-Beach,  etc.),  and  a  picturesque  chapel  of  gray  lleld- 
stone  and  rough-cast  plaster,  low  and  broad,  with  a  huge  open  fireplace 
and  a  memorial  window  representing  the  Annunciation. 

At  Magnolia,  William  M.  Hunt,  the  greatest  of  American  artists, 
altered  an  old  barn  into  a  studio  (in  1877),  which  he  christened  ''The 
Hulk,"  and  in  whose  great  loft  he  painted  some  famous  pictures.  Here 
lie  exemplified  his  motto,  "Draw  firm  and  be  jolly;"  and  his  disciples 
gathered  around  him  to  hear  the  inimitable  "  Talks  on  Art."  Among 
the  people  who  used  to  come  to  Magnolia  in  the  old  days  were  Freeman 
Clarke,  Susan  Hale,  Helen  Knowlton,  Pumpelly,  Bynner,  Cranch,  Glau- 
gcngigl,  and  many  other  famous  persons. 

A  little  way  from  Magnolia  is  the  wonderful  Uafe's  Chasm,  a  trench 
one  hundred  and  seventy-five  feet  long,  and  sixty  feet  deep,  and  from 
six  to  ten  feet  wide,  cut  by  Nature  out  of  the  live;  rock  of  the  clitt', 
and  opening  directly  into  the  bay.  When  a  heavy  sea  is  on.  the 
breakers  crash  into  this  long  recess  with  enormous  force,  roaring  like 
heavy  artillery,  and  (lying  upward  in  sheets  of  milk-white  foam.  In 
1S7!)  a  young  lady  was  swept  away  by  these  tremendous  surge-,  and 
met  her  death.  The  sad  event  is  commemorated  by  an  iron  cross. 

Off  the  point,  and  joined  to  it  by  a  bar  at  low  tide,  is  the  hunv  black 
rock  of  Norman's  Woe.  where  tradition  says  that  Kiehard  Norman,  of 
(Uoueester,  was  wrecked,  in  li!S(l. 


It  is  more 


50 

"The  Wreck  of  the  Hesperus,"  written  on  a  dark  December  night  of 
1839,  and  first  published  by  Park  Benjamin,  in  the  Xew-York  "World." 

"  And  fast  through  the  midnight  dark  and  drear, 

Through  the  whistling  sleet  and  snow, 
Like  a  sheeted  ghost,  the  vessel  swept 
Towards  the  reef  of  Norman's  Woe." 

There  are  numberless  footpaths  winding  away  into  the  deep  woods 
that  border  the  shore,  and  passing  through  delicious  jungles  of  berry - 
bushes  and  wild  flowers.  It  is  about  two  miles  to  the  tangled  swamp 
which  bears  the  glorious  maynolia  ylauca  flowers,  beautifully  white 
and  pure,  and  rich  in  a  sweet  Florida  fragrance.  The  plants  grow  to 
a  height  of  ten  feet,  and  this  is  the  only  New-England  locality  where 
they  are  native.  They  were  first  discovered  by  Cotton  Mather  while  on 
his  way  from  Salem  to  "the  old  sea-brown  fishing-town"  of  Gloucester. 
The  strange  penetrating  perfume  of  the  Southern  flowers  arrested  his 
attention,  while  driving  along  the  road,  and  he  descended  from  the 
carriage  and  hunted  through  the  thickets  until  he  found  their  creamy 
petals. 


Cape  Ann,  for  centuries  the  nursery  of  hardy  seamen  for  the 
Massachusetts  fleets,  with  its  lonely  and  arid  hills  and  surf -beaten 
cliffs,  its  famous  sea-ports,  its  vast  granite-quarries,  and  its  rosary  of 
summer-villages,  is  without  doubt  one  of  the  most  thoroughly  interest- 
'ng  regions  in  the  old  Bay  State.  The  scenes  of  Sarah  Onie  Jewett's 
•'A  Marsh  Island,"  and  Elizabeth  Stuart  Phelps's  "An  Old  Maid's  Para- 
dise," are  laid  here;  and  the  rare  natural  beauties  of  the  scene  are  set 
forth  in  Lucy  Larcom's  volume,  "Wild  Roses  of  ("'ape  Ann."  The 
history  and  legendry  of  two  hundred  and  eighty  years  drape  every 
headland  with  Imperishable  charms,  worthy  enrichments  of  localities 
so  dowered  by  the  grandeur  of  ocean  scenery. 

A  few  years  ago  the  artists  discovered  the  great  capabilities  of  Cape 
Ann,  and  its  resemblance  in  some  respect  to  the  coast  of  Brittany, 
that  paradise  of  painters.  Winslow  Homer  lived  with  the  light-keeper 
on  Ten-Pound  Island,  and  found  his  inspiration  in  and  about.  Glouces- 
ter Harbor;  Picknell,  at  Annisqnam,  founded  a  new  school  of  art  ;  and 
William  M.  Hunt  and  his  enthusiastic  pupils  had  their  studio  at  Mag- 
nolia, 

As  Gen.  James  Grant  Wilson  says:  --The  pure  and  bracing  air  of 
Cape  Ann  is  to  a  long-pent-'ip  city-man  a  cordial  of  almost  incredible 
virtue." 

Gloucester  is  a  quaint  old  city  of  twenty-two  thousand  inhab- 
itants, clinging  to  the  rock-ribbed  hills  near  the  end  of  the  cape,  and 
conquering  all  seas  by  the  heroism  of  its  mariners.  You  may  wander 
along  its  busy  streets,  and  note  the  handsome  city-hall,  with  the  monu- 
ment to  the  soldiers  and  sailors  of  the  Secession  War:  the  picturesque 


61 


A 


,-- 


52 

new  high-school;  the  Sawyer  Free  Library,  with  its  snug  reading- 
rooms  ;  the  great  Catholic  Church  of  St.  Anne,  a  favorite  shrine  of  the 
Portuguese  and  provincial  fishermen ;  the  crowded  fish-flakes  on  Fort 
Point;  and  the  little  beach  near  the  Pavilion  Hotel,  looking  out  to 
Stage  Rocks  and  Ten-Pound  Island. 

The  gallant  Champlain,  with  his  company  of  French  mariners,  was 
the  first  man  of  white  skin  to  explore  the  coast  hereaway,  somewhere 
about  the  year  1(505 ;  and  he  gave  to  Gloucester  Harbor  the  pleasant 
title  of  Le  Beau  Port.  Capt.  John  Smith  visited  the  cape  in  1G14,  and 
he  gave  it  the  name  of  Tragabigzanda,  in  honor  of  a  fair  Turkish  prin- 


OLD   WHARVES   AT   GLOUCESTER. 

cess  who  had  befrknded  him  many  years  before  while  a  captive  to  the 
Moslems  in  Constantinople.  But  Prince  Charles  of  England  thought 
it  worthy  of  a  more  Christian  title,  and  gave  it  the  name  of  his  royal 
mother.  Anne  of  Denmark,  the  wife  of  .lames  I.,  and  the  tirst  "queen 
of  (ireat  Britain.  France,  and  Ireland." 

Classic  writers  tell  us  that  the  inventor  of  salt-fish  was  honored  by 
a  statue  in  the  Athenian  market-place,  as  a  benefactor  of  Creece. 

When  the  Pilgrims  importuned  King  James  for  a  colonial  patent, 
he  asked  them  what  prolits  miujht  arise  from  the  projected  settlement. 
"  Fishing,"  said  one.  To  whom  the  majesty  of  England  made  answer  : 


53 

"So  God  have  my  soul,  'tis  an  honest  trade;  'twas  the  Apostles'  own 
calling." 

By  the  extension  of  these  wonderful  fisheries,  Gloucester  has  become 
the  chief  port  in  all  the  world  for  this  business,  and  employs  upwards 
of  five  thousand  men  in  its  fleets.  The  noble  apostrophe  of  Edmund 
Burke,  uttered  in  the  English  Parliament,  in  1774,  is  as  true  now  as 
then  :  "  No  sea  but  what  is  vexed  by  their  fisheries,  no  climate  that  is 
not  witness  of  their  toils  ;  neither  the  perseverance  of  Holland,  nor  the 
activity  of  France,  nor  the  dexterous  and  firm  sagacity  of  English  en- 
terprise, ever  carried  their  most  perilous  mode  of  hardy  industry  to 
the  extent  to  which  it  has  been  pursued  by  this  recent  people." 

"  Wild  tiro  the  waves  which  lash  the  reefs  along  St.  George's  Bank, 
Cold  on  the  short;  of  Labrador  the  fog  lies  white  and  dank; 
Through  storm  and  wave  and  blinding  mist,  stout  are  the  hearts  which  man 
The  fishing-smacks  of  Marblehead,  the  sea-boats  of  (Jape  Ann. 

"  Tile  cold  Xorth  light  and  wintry  sun  glare  on  their  icy  forms, 
Bent  grimly  o'er  their  straining  lines,  or  wrestling  with  the  storms; 
Free  as  the  winds  they  drive  before,  rough  as  the  waves  they  roam, 
They  laugh  to  scorn  the  slaver's  threat  against  their  rocky  home." 

—  John  (,'.  W/iittier. 

Gloucester  was  bombarded  by  the  British  sloop-of-war  Fnlcmi  in 
1775,  and  many  of  the  houses  received  hard  royalist  cannon-balls.  But 
the  Cape-Ann  minute-men  held  the  town  and  prevented  the  enemy  from 
landing.  •  The  good  town  was -incorporated  in  1(!4L>,  under  the  name  of 
Gi.orcKSTKR,  commemorating  the  old  cathedral-city  of  England,  from 
which  many  of  the  first  settlers  had  come. 

Bass  Rocks  are  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  town,  near  Good- 
Harbor  Beach,  looking  fairly  out  on  the  resounding  Atlantic.  Close 
by,  the  white  surges  sweep  round  the  well-named  little  Salt  Island  and 
Milk  Island;  and  farther  out  in  the  north-east  are  the  great  light-house 
towers  on  Thatcher's  Island,  "the  eyes  of  Cape  Ann.''  There  are 
about  fifty  summer-villas  in  this  vicinity,  occupied  by  families  from 
New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  oilier  cities.  Good-Harbor  Beach  is  a 
beautiful  crescent  of  white  sand,  buttressed  by  huge  piles  of  rock  at 
either  end;  and  an  adjacent  shallow  inlet  has  \\armer  salt-water  for 
bathers  who  dread  the  shock  and  chill  of  the  breakers.  In  the  vicinity 
you  may  also  visit  the  Hocking  Stone,  or  Pebbly  Beach,  or  ISriar  Neck. 
or  Norman's  Woe,  or  I-Yrnwood  Lake,  or  Kockport,  or  you  may  sail 
and  fish  in  Gloucester  Harbor,  or  on  the  sea  ont-ide. 

Edwin  Percy  W  hippie  said  :  '-The  primal  advantage  of  the  situat  ion 
is  that  the  south  and  south-weM  winds  blow  direct  from  the  ocean: 
whereas  in  many  localities  Ho-e  to  the  sea  the  only  si-.-i-bive/.e  is,  a-  at 
Boston,  from  the  north-ea-t.  1  have  been  repeatedly  burnt  and  half 
suffocated  by  a  wit lierinii'  south  wind  from  the  land,  in  places  where 
the  broad  ocean  was  stretched  out  mockingly  In-fore  me.  and  only 
givinii1  an  ocean  flavor  when  it  \\a-  chillinirly  •  nor-nor-eaM.'  To  an 


54 

ordinary  July  observer,  the  principal  productions  of  this  portion  of 
Cape  Ann  appear  to  be  rocks  and  roses.  Hence  it  is,  I  suppose,  that 
the  air  in  the  hot  season  is  so  sweet,  pure,  and  invigorating." 

Eastern  Point,  which  lies  between  the  outer  harbor  of  Gloucester 
and  the  open  sea,  is  bordered  with  rocky  shores  and  little  beaches  of 
white  sand,  and  affords  enchanting  views  of  Gloucester,  Manchester, 
Marblehead,  the  deep-blue  hills  of  Essex  and  Milton,  and  the  far-sur- 
rounding seas.  At  the  end  is  Eastern-Point  Light;  and  on  one  side 
appear  the  ruins  of  a  fort,  built  during  the  Secession  War  to  guard  the 
port  of  Gloucester.  Among  the  other  attractions  of  this  fonr-hundred- 
acre  peninsula  are  the  oak-trees,  massed  in  a  pleasant  grove,  and  a 
large  pond  of  clear  fresh  water,  fragrant  with  many  lilies.  The  entire 
domain  was  purchased  in  1888  by  a  syndicate  of  Boston  and  Western 


GATE    HOt'SE,    EASTKHN    POINT. 

capitalists,  and  opened  as  a  summer-resort,  with  an  entrance-lodge 
built  of  field-stone,  four  or  live  miles  of  tine  roads,  a  handsome  hotel 
(the  Beachcroft),  and  a  number  of  architecturally  attractive  cottages. 
No  house  nmy  be  built  here  to  cost  less  than  live  thousand  dollars, 
and  no  boarding-houses  are  allowed.  Sea-walls,  pier,  and  esplanade 
add  to  the  new  attractions  of  this  patrician  marine  colony. 

There  is  hardly  a  better  excursion  on  the  Xew-Knirland  shore  than 
that  "around  the  cape,"  a  distance  of  perhaps  fifteen  miles,  by  admira- 
ble roads,  passing  from  Gloucester  by  Bass  Uocks  and  Louie  Beach 
to  Kockport  and  Pigeon  Cove,  and  then  to  Lanesville  and  Bay  View, 
Annisquam  and  Kiverdale,  and  back  to  Gloucester  again. 

Rockport,  the  end  of  the  railway,  is  a  singular  and  interesting 
little  sea-port,  among  the  rocky  hills,  crowned  with  imperishable 


65 

harvests  of  bo\vldors.  It  is  at  the  head  of  Sandy  Bay,  where  the  iron- 
bound  shores  are  indented  into  a  sharp  angle,  one  shore  running  nearly 
north  and  the  other  eastward  toward  Straitsinouth  Island  and  Kockport 
Light.  The  haven  is  thus  left  open  to  the  wild  north-east  gales ;  and 
the  United-States  Government  has  been  for  some  years  endeavoring 
to  construct  a  shelter  here  by  building  a  colossal  granite  breakwater, 
nine  thousand  feet  long,  from  Avery's  Kock  north-westward  by  Abner'H 
l>edge  toward  Andrew's  Point  (near  the  Ocean-View  House).  If  it  is 
ever  completed,  it  will  have  cost  many  millions  of  dollars,  and  will 
make  one  of  the  best  and  most  useful  harbors  on  the  New-England 
coast.  The  village  rambles  oddly  over  the  rugged  hills,  with  winding 
streets,  and  a  multitude  of  little  wooden  cottages,  a  ruined  cotton-mill 
of  granite,  and  a  lonely  Dock  Square,  from  which  a  narrow  lane  leads 
out  on  the  point  between  the  two  emvalled  havens,  with  scores  of 
ancient  gray  fish-houses,  boats  of  all  kinds,  drying  nets,  anchors  on 
the  retired  list,  and  redolent  fish-flakes.  Against  the  high  end  of  this 


interesting  promontory  the  sea  breaks  heavily,  and  its  munnurings 
thrill  through  the  quiet  streets.  The  town  has  a  population  of  about 
four  thousand,  with  a  considerable  fleet  engaged  in  the  cod  and 
mackerel  fisheries,  and  in  the  carrying-trade  along  the  coast.  And  if 
one  will  take  the  trouble  to  climb  Tool's  Hill,  or  Pigeon  Hill,  lie  can 
overlook  a  hundred  leagues  of  sea.  and  great  expanses  of  inland 
country,  witli  the  distant  bine  crowns  of  Monadnock.  Agamenticus. 
and  the  I'ncanoonnc  Mountains. 

The  Congregational  Church  is  nearly  one  hundred  and  tif'y  years 
old:  and  in  the  War  of  Isli'  its  tower  was  shattered  by  a  cannon-ball 
from  a  marauding  British  frigate. 

Two  and  a  half  miles  southward,  by  the  road  passing  Whale  Cove 
and  Loblolly  Cove,  and  near  the  two  tall  li^ht-hoiises  on  Thatcher'^ 
Island,  is  Cape  Hedire.  with  IVbble-stoiie  Hcach.  where  the  famous 
IVnnett-Mackay  commercial  cahle  ua-  landed,  from  the  -team-hip 
Far  iilmi.  in  lss|.  Heyond  -tretrhe-  Lniiu'  Beach,  a  half-mile  of 
smooth  hard  -and.  making  a  iroo.l  drive  at  low  tide. 


56 

Thatcher's  Island  commemorates  Anthony  Thatcher  and  his  wife,  the 
only  persons  saved  when  their  pinnace  was  wrecked  hereaway,  back  in 
the  year  1G35,  what  time  the  Rev.  John  Aver}',  minister-elect  of  Marble- 
head,  and  eight  other  persons  were  lost  in  the  sea.  In  1771  the  Pro- 
vincial government  bought  the  island,  and  some  years  later  a  light- 
house was  erected  here.  In  1801  the  United  States  built  on  this  lonely 
strand  two  colossal  granite  light-houses,  each  one  hundred  and  sixty  - 
five  feet  high,  and  visible  over  many  leagues  of  dangerous  sea. 

Rockport  is  the  end  of  the  railway ;  and  stages  connecting  with  the 
trains  run  thence  a  mile  and  a  half  to  Pigeon  Cove,  traversing  a 
high  gallery -like  road  over  the  sea,  and  passing  a  line  of  great  granite- 
quarries. 


Pigeon  Cove,  on  the  remotest  seaward  tip  of  Cape  Ann,  high  over 
the  rocky  cliffs  whose  bases  are  incessantly  scourged  by  the  murmur- 
ing ocean,  is  one  of  the  most  charming  of  summer-resorts,  rich  in  its 
cool  and  bracing  air,  and  with  views  of  amazing  grandeur,  extending 
from  Thatcher's  Island  and  Straitsmouth  far  around  to  the  dim  shores 
of  New  Hampshire  and  Maine.  The  high  plateau  is  covered  with  a 
dense  evergreen  forest,  traversed  by  admirable  roads,  and  dotted  here 
and  there  with  the  little  cottages  of  summer-residents ;  and  overlook- 
ing the  wide  expanse  of  sea  are  the  three  hotels. —  the  Ocean-View. 
Limvood,  and  Pigeon-Cove. 

The  origin  of  the  name  Pigeon  Cove  is  said  to  be  that  many  years 
ago  a  man  named  John  lived  there  who  was  famous  for  making  pies. 
and  was  known  as  Pie  John;  and  the  hill  was  spoken  of  as  Pie-John 
Hill,  which  gradually  shortened  into  Pigeon  Hill.  Its  summer  charms 
were  discovered  in  1840  by  Ilk-hard  II.  Dana.  sen.,  who  passed  a  part 
of  the  summer  in  a  fisherman's  house  hard  by,  and  was  followed  the 
next  season  by  William  Cullen  Bryant.  In  later  years,  it  become  the 
favorite  resort  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  E.  II.  Chapin.  the  Nestor  of  rnivcrs- 
alisin ;  the  younger  Dana  (he  of  '-Two  Years  before  the  Mast")  :  Dr. 
Bartol  and  James  Freeman  Clarke ;  Thomas  Starr  King  and  Henry  W. 
Bellows;  Edwin  Percy  Whipple.  the  essayist;  Sara  Jewett,  the  actress; 
and  scores  of  well-known  artists.  The  best  of  the  cottages  is  the  new 
stone  i-hfitcaii  of  John  M.  Way.  of  Boston,  out  near  the  northern  point 
of  the  cape,  with  its  tall  tower  overlooking  the  blue  Atlantic  plain. 

Near  Pigeon  Cove  is  the  "  witch  house."  built  two  centuries  ago.  ac- 
cording to  tradition,  by  two  young  men  named  Wheeler,  whose  sister 
had  been  brought  under  suspicion  of  witchcraft,  at  Salem.  Fleeing 
from  the  ill-omened  town  at  night,  they  rowed  a  small  boat  round  Cape 
Ann,  and  made  here  a  safe  home  for  the  persecuted  maiden.  Not  fur 
away  is  the  house  which  was  built  by  the  sturdy  yeoman  (Jott.  in  the 
year  HI4<).  and  is  still  occupied  by  his  descendants. 

The    drives    to    Halibut    Point    and    Follv    Cove,    and   the    rambles 


57 

through  the  Cathedral  Woods  and  over  Pigeon  Hill,  are  full  of  interest 
and  diversity.  And  if  one's  thoughts  are  inclined  toward  bathing, 
there  are  great  hollows  in  the  rock}'  shore,  guarded  by  lines,  and 
affording  opportunities  for  enlivening  contact  with  salt-water.  When 
one  tires  of  the  sea,  there  are  delightful  rambles  through  the  ancient 
woods  and  picturesque  glens  inland,  along  grassy  old  cart-paths  and 
woocl-roads,  extending  even  from  Kockpoit  to  Anuisquam.  Bryant 
said  that  "  no  place  of  resort  by  the  seaside  in  New  England  lias  such 
forest  attractions  as  Pigeon  Cove.  Full  of  pleasant  paths  running  in 
every  direction,  the  woods  here  look  like  a  beautiful  rural  temple.  1 
have  never  visited  any  woodlands  more  lovely."  The  sportsman  who 
has  trolled  for  blue-lish  in  the  bay.  or  caught  ten-pound  cod  from 
Ocean  Blntt',  or  shot  ducks  off  Annisquam,  or  sailed  along  the  outer  sea 
in  a  swift  yacht,  has  enjoyed  some  of  the  best  phases  of  coast-life. 

It  is  about  four  miles  from  Pigeon  Cove  to  Lanesville,  over  a  noble 
sea-viewing  road,  and  by  the  bead  of  Folly  Cove,  fringed  with  spray- 
swept  rocks.  The  embowered  Willow  Uoad  will  call  for  a  pleased 
attention  here;  and  the  quaint  little  harbor  below  the  village,  pro- 
tected by  high  stone  breakwaters,  and  sheltering  the  vessels  of  the 
Lanesville  Granite  Company. 

The  road  follows  the  bold  shore  to  the  south-west  for  about  a  mile 
to  Bay  View,  the  port  and  village  created  by  the  Cape-Ann  Granite 
Company,  whose  stone  has  been  used  for  the  Boston  post-ollicc.  the 
West-Point  Military  Academy,  the  Scott  monument  at  Washington,  and 
elsewhere.  On  the  sea-viewing  hill  near  this  hamlet  are  the  handsome 
estates  of  Gen.  Benjamin  F.  Butler  and  Col.  Jonas  II.  French,  two 
stone  houses,  amid  beautiful  grounds.  The  north  shore  from  Ipswich 
to  Portsmouth  is  visible  from  thence,  and  the  long  promontory  of 
Davis  Neck  projects  into  the  sea  just,  below.  About  a  mile  from  Bay 
View  the  road  reaches  Annisquam.  a  well-known  summer-resort. 

Annisquam  is  on  a  high,  rugged  promontory  between  the  lovely 
inlet  of  Lobster  Cove  and  the  openings  of  Sqiiam  River,  where  it  pours 
its  tides  into  the  northern  sea.  In  the  lee  of  this  hiirh.  rocky  rampart. 
around  the  little  harbor,  nestle  the  old-time  houses  and  sea-blown  trees 
of  the  hamlet,  for  so  many  years  a  favorite  haunt  of  artists.— Pickliell, 
Hayden.  ('ranch.  P.oyden,  Bolton  Jones,  and  others. —  who  lind  tin- 
region  inexhaustible  in  its  bcaiitie-.  of  Nature.  'In  old  time-  it  \\a-- 
known  as  W<>ii<ix,tn<nn.  or  ••  Pleasant  Water."  but  tlii-  niclodioii-  Indian 
name  has  degenerated,  in  the  local  vernacular,  into  plain  'Sijnani,  by 
which  title  it  is  known  to  thousands  of  mariner-,  up  and  do\\n  the 
coast.  For  in  the  past  it  was  a  famou-  ti-hin^-port .  building  it-  »\\u 
stanch  vessels  and  sending  them  on  remote  and  perilon-  voyages,  to 
the  Grand  Banks  and  the  Bay  of  Chaleur.  Now  all  thi-  ^allani  trade 
has  passed  away,  and  the  unused  \\har\c-  are  mouldering  auav  on  tin- 
slow  tides.  The  chief  distinction  of  the  place  no\\  i-  a-  a  -iimmer- 
ivsort.  with  the  Grand-View  lion-con  the  heiiriit-  above,  and  -e\eral 


58 

summer  boarding-houses  in  the  village,  and  almost  every  dwelling  with 
its  '•  spare  room"  ready  for  guests  from  the  city.  You  may  row  up  the 
river  by  daylight  or  moonlight;  or  cruise  around  the  cape  in  a  yacht; 
or  fish  in  the  bay  to  the  northward;  or  bathe  in  the  comfortable  still 
water;  or  shoot  coots  and  duck  and  sheldrakes  (in  spring  or  autumn) ; 
or  watch  the  pageant  of  ending  day  from  Sunset  Rocks ;  or  ramble 
among  the  Druidic  stones  and  colonial  cellars  on  Dogtown  Common,  a 
league  away;  or  visit  the  attractive  Squam  light-house;  or  drive  along 
or  around  the  cape ;  or  be  diverted  with  picnics,  clam-bakes,  lunches,  or 
tennis  —  and  always  the  clear  marine  air,  and  the  myriad  changing 
phases  of  sea  and  sky.  Just  across  the  river  (over  which  a  ferryman 
will  take  you  in  his  dory )  are  the  weird  white  sand-hills  of  Co/tin's 
Beach,  stretching  away  for  nearly  two  miles  to  the  singular  hillock  of 
Two-Penny  Loaf .  near  the  mouth  of  the  Chebacco  (or  Essex)  River. 
At  low  tide  the  beach  forms  a  magnificent  esplanade,  six  hundred  feet 
wide,  and  admirably  adapted  for  riding  or  walking.  Near  by  are  the 
picturesque  ravines  and  sea-viewing  roads  of  YVilloughby  Park,  one  of 
the  more  modern  summer-resorts  for  cottagers.  Coffin's  Beach  was 
named  from  the  neighboring  family  of  farmers,  whose  ancestor.  Tris- 
tram Coffin,  acquired  five  hundred  acres  hereabouts,  in  the  year  Ii;s8. 

The  road  from  Annisquam  to  Gloucester,  about  four  miles  long,  is 
traversed  several  times  daily  by  stage-coaches  connecting  with  the 
trains.  It  follows  the  course  of  broad  and  sluggish  rivers  and  lagoons. 
and  traverses  the  long  rural  hamlet  of  Riverdale.  with  its  soldiers' 
monument.  Near  the  Green  is  the  old  Low  mansion:  and  the  Ellery 
mansion,  built  about  the  year  1702.  for  many  years  a  parsonage,  and 
then  for  other  decades  a  tavern,  famous  for  its  good  "  licker."  It  has 
been  in  the  Ellery  family  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

As  the  road  draws  near  to  Gloucester,  it  passes  the  Poles  hill,  with 
its  weird  traditions  of  bloodshed  and  sorrow,  far  back  in  the  colony 
days.  In  this  neighborhood,  also,  stood  (until  recently)  the  old  Mur- 
ray meeting-house,  erected  in  KSII.  and  for  many  years  used  as  the 
church  of  the  rniversalist  Society  in  Gloucester,  the  first  parish  of 
that  denomination  in  America.  It  was  removed  to  Riverdale  in  isll. 
and  became  a  repository  for  carriages  and  boats. 

In  the  old  days  there  was  open  communication  from  one  side  of  the 
cape  to  the  other,  through  the  tranquil  current  of  Sqiiam  River  and  its 
connected  canal,  and  many  a  roviuir  Yankee  privateer  escaped  from 
one  end  or  the  other  of  this  marine  passage,  to  prey  upon  British  com- 
merce. If  tlie  royal  frigates  blockaded  the  AnnUqiiam  end.  the  little 
fleet  of  marine  wa-ps  crept  out  <>n  the  south:  and  when  the  frigates 
lay  off  the  southern  exit,  the  privateersmen  fled  seaward  across  Ipswich 
Bav. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


ESSEX 


WEXIIAM  LAKE. — ESSEX,  AND  Rri'rs  CIIOATE. — IPSWICH. — ROWLEY. — 
DOIMKU  ACADEMY.  —  INDIAN  HILL. 

Bl'T  wo  liave  left  the  express-train  on  tiie  main  line  at  Beverly  over 
long,  and  it  behooves  us  to  fly  back  to  it  on  the  whiles  of  the 
broomstick  of  the  traditional  Essex-County  witches,  and  fare 
away  on  our  route  to  the  great  northern  beaches.  We  swing 
along  the  shore  of  East  River;  past  the  high  reservoir  of  the  Salem 
water-works,  resembling  one  of  McClellan's  Virginian  earth-works; 
and  in  sight  of  the  famous  YVenham  Lake.  Close  to  the  village  gleams 
its  silvery  expanse,  more  widely  renowned  than  any  other  American 
pond  of  similar  si/e,  for  thence  were  taken,  for  many  years,  the  great 
blocks  of  ice  that  helped  so  far  to  make  life  endurable  in  India  and 
Cuba,  and  the  Gulf  States,  and  other  remote  torrid  regions.  The  name 
of  \Venham  was  a  familiar  and  grateful  sound  in  Martinique  and  Alla- 
habad and  Cairo,  and  scores  of  places  where  Boston  and  New  York 
had  scarcely  been  heard  of. 

Wenham  extends  its  fair  and  fertile  acres  along  the  track  and  far 
away  on  either  side,  with  good  roads  winding  out  among  the  comfort- 
able farms,  and  rounded  hills  and  silvery  lakes  diversifying  the  fair 
country-side.  The  picture  drawn  by  a  colonist  centuries  ago  is  still 
essentially  true  :  "  Weiiham  is  a  delicious  paradise:  it  abounds  in  rural 
pleasures:  and  I  would  choose  it  above  all  other  to\vns  in  America 
to  dwell  in.  The  lofty  trees  on  each  side  of  it  are  a  sullicienl  -hclter 
from  the  winds:  and  the  warm  sun  so  kindly  ripens  both  the  fruits  and 
(lowers,  as  if  the  spring,  the  summer,  and  the  autumn  had  agreed 
together  to  thrust  winter  out  of  doors." 

A  fe\v  miles  to  the  eastward,  by  the  Ks-ex  Branch,  leavinir  the 
main  line  at  \Veiiham.  i-  the  ancient  maritime  hamlet  of  Essex,  the 
Indian  <  In  1,/n-cn.  and  in  colonial  day<  known  a>  the  Second  I'ari-h  of 
Ipswich.  In  the  old  times  thi-  salty  town  was  famous  for  it-  ve--el-. 
which  were  among  the  stanche-t  and  liand-omc-t  in  the  American 
tleets.  In  one  of  them  Dr.  Kane  made  a  peri  Km-  voyage  into  t  lie  lonely 
North,  toward  the  Pole.  The  ship-yard-  are  but  little  u-ed  now.  during 
the  dormant  period  of  American  commerce. 

The   railwav   ha-   -tat  ion-   at    Hamilton   village.   \Vooi!bnr\ '-.    K--ex 


60 

Falls,  Essex,  and  Conomo,  the  latter  being  at  the  eastern  end  of  the 
town,  near  the  salt-marshes  and  the  sea. 

The  chief  landscape  beauty  of  Essex  is  found  around  Chebacco 
Pond,  whose  picturesquely  diversified  shores  are  covered  with  fine  old 
woodlands.  Here  John  Whipple  built  the  Chebacco  House,  on  the  old 
Knowlton  farm,  just  before  the  Civil  War,  intending  it  for  a  sum- 
mer-hotel ;  but  picnics  and  dinner-parties  sought  this  delightful  region 
in  such  numbers  that  the  house  was  finally  reserved  for  them. 

Essex  River,  deep  and  narrow,  winds  away  from  Chebacco  Pond 
toward  the  sea,  and  opens  out  into  the  broad  lagoon  inside  of  Castle 
Neck.  Amid  these  sea-tides  rises  the  high  and  bare  Choate  (or  Hog) 
Island,  three  hundred  acres,  with  three  farm-houses,  in  one  of  which 
was  born  Rufus  Choate,  the  great  orator,  jurist,  and  statesman. 

A  narrow  arm  of  the  sea  flows  around  the  island,  and  above  one  of 
its  influent  tidal  creeks  rises  the  ancient  Choate  mansion,  built  nearly 
two  centuries  ago,  low-studded,  bound  together  with  a  visible  and  pon- 
derous skeleton  of  beams  and  rafters,  and  weather-stained  by  the  sea- 
storms  of  two  hundred  winters.  Oft'  to  the  southward  the  view  from 
the  narrow  windows  sweeps  over  leagues  of  melancholy  marshes  and 
salt  lagoons,  and  rests  on  the  rocky  promontories  of  Cape  Ann. 

From  this  delicious  island  Choate  could  look  westward  across  the 
salt-marshes  and  see  a  dozen  famous  towns  of  Essex  South,  their 
spires  relieved  against  the  dark  hills  beyond ;  or  northward,  to  the 
blue  mountains  of  the  Maine  coast;  or  eastward,  beyond  the  white  and 
curving  sand-beaches,  to  the  long  and  level  horizon-line  of  the  northern 
ocean,  stretching  away  in  vague  and  impressive  immensity.  It  was 
here,  during  his  periodic  summer-retreats,  that  the  great  orator  caught 
the  inspiration  for  his  fascinating  (and  now,  alas,  long-lost)  lecture  on 
'•The  Romance  of  the  Sea."  Years  afterward,  when  in  the  Senate  of 
the  United  States,  fighting  with  Henry  Clay  and  James  Buchanan,  he 
wrote  to  his  children  here,  lovingly  telling  them  where  the  best  play- 
grounds were  to  be  found,  and  pithily  counselling  them  to  "be  pleas- 
ant, brave,  and  fond  of  books."  And  then,  with  a  warm  outburst  of 
local  pride,  he  adds  :  '•  Give  me  the  sun  of  Essex.  One  half-hour  under 
those  cherished  buttonwoods  is  worth  a  month  under  these  insutterable 
fervors." 

During  the  last  war  with  Great  Britain,  the  bay  oft' Essex  was  often 
visited  by  American  cruisers  and  British  frigates,  their  white  sails 
Hashing  up  from  the  far  eastern  horizon,  as  they  swept  in  from  the 
distant  outer  seas.  Hither  came  the  noble  English  war-ships,  —  the 
Ti-ix-ii.ox  and  Slnn>i>o».  —  "sitting  like  two  swans  upoii  the  water,"  as 
the  village  legends  tell. 


61 

After  our  brief  excursion  into  ancient  Essex,  we  may  go  forwan 
again  on  the  main  line  through  the  pleasant  fields  of  Hamilton,  whicl 
was  named  in  1793,  in  honor  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  at  that  time  lillinj. 
the  office  of  first  Secretary  of  the  United-States  Treasury.  In  latei 
times  the  little  hamlet  has  been  famous  as  the  birthplace  and  home  ol 
that  brilliant  writer,  Mary  Abigail  Dodge,  widely  known  as  "Gai 
Hamilton."  It  is  a  pleasant  farming-town  of  about  eight  hundrei 
inhabitants,  anciently  known  as  Ipswich  Hamlets.  OH' to  the  left  w< 
may  see  the  cottages  and  cabins  of  Asbury  Grove,  a  famous  place  foi 
Methodist  feasts  of  tabernacles,  where  thousands  of  families  gathei 
every  summer. 

A  brief  run  farther  leads  to  quaint  old  Ipswicti. 

"  I  love  to  think  of  old  Ipswich  town  — 
Old  Ipswich  town  in  the  East  countree, 
Whence,  on  the.  tide,  you  can  lloat  down 
Through  the  long  wait-grass  to  the  wailing  sea." 

Ipswich  is  one  of  the  ancient  and  legend-haunted  towns  of  New 
England,  still  rural  and  picturesque,  and  full  of  quaint  beauty  am 
comeliness.  It  was  the  first  point  in  Essex  County  visited  by  whiti 
men,  when  Capt.  Edward  Ilardie  and  Nicholas  Ilobson  came  hither,  ii 
1(511,  and  were  kindly  received  and  entertained  by  the  Agawam  Indians, 
Few  they  were,  and  weak,  even  then,  for  some  years  before  the  trilx 
had  been  nearly  annihilated  by  Passaconaway's  braves  in  a  great  bat  tit 
on  Plum  Island,  when  a  thousand  warriors  died  on  the  Held  of  honor, 

The  traditions  abide  here  of  gallant  old  John  Kndieott,  surveying 
the  town  bounds,  and  being  entertained  at  the  Uev.  John  Norton's  par- 
sonage, bunt  in  l(>;'>r>,  and  the  venerable  house  still  standing  on  Easl 
Street  (near  the  station),  and  where  Mather  and  Kndieott  and  Mogu 
Megone  were  also  visitors;  of  the  English  regicides,  hiding  in  a  secret 
chamber  in  the  Applcton  house  (now  Mrs.  \Vilhelmina  \Vildes's),  on 
Market  Street,  quite  near  Meeting-House  Green  ;  of  George  YVhitetield. 
preaching  the  Gospel  from  the  summit  of  a  rock  that  is  still  shown, 
close  by  the  church,  imprinted  also  with  a  foot-print  of  the  Devil:  ol 
John  Procter,  handed  in  Salem  as  a  witch,  although  all  Ip^wicli 
pleaded  for  his  release;  of  the  old  whippinir-po^t  and  pillory,  whose 
site  is  still  shown:  of  the  venerable  house  of  liiehard  Saltoii^tall.  an 
ancestor  of  the  Hon.  Leveret!  Saltonstall  :  of  the  ••dii-ky  Ariadne  "o| 
Heart-break  Hill,  who  died  of  loniriiiir  for  an  absent  sailor-lad. 


02 

The  Pilgrims  of  Plymouth  made  an  attempt  to  settle  on  this  site, 
but  were  repelled  by  the  "bitter  cold  "of  the  place;  and  it  was  left 
for  the  Boston  Puritans  to  found  a  settlement  here  "(being  the  best 
place  in  the  land  for  tillage  and  cattle) ,  lest  an  enemy,  finding  it,  should 
possess  and  take  it  from  us."  So  Gov.  Winthrop  sent  his  trusty  son 
John,  and  twelve  yeomen,  to  occupy  this  strategic  point,  and  head  off 
the  French  or  the  Dutch.  The  houses  of  these  pioneers  were  lowly 
thatched  huts,  lighted  within  by  pine-knots;  and  in  those  doleful  days 
wolves  were  so  numerous  that  parents  would  not  allow  their  children 
to  go  to  church  without  men  to  guard  them. 

Cotton  Mather  said  that  the  people  of  the  church  in  Ipswich  were 
such  illuminated  Christians  that  the  pastors  had  not  so  much  disciples 
as  judges ;  and  Gov.  John  Winthrop  once  walked  all  the  way  from 
Boston  hither  "to  exercise  among  them  the  spirit  of  prophecy."  At 
the  time  Gen.  Washington  visited  Ipswich,  on  his  presidential  tour, 
October  30,  1789,  Parson  Cleveland  was  among  those  who  went  to  pay 
his  respects  to  him.  Approaching  with  his  cocked  hat  under  his  arm, 
Washington  recognized  him  and  said:  "Put  on  your  hat,  parson,  and 
I  will  shake  hands  with  you." — The  parson  replied:  "I  cannot  wear 
my  hat  in  your  presence,  general,  when  I  think  what  yon  have  done  for 
this  country." — "  You  did  as  much  as  I,"  said  the  general.- — "  No,  no," 
replied  the  parson. — "  Yes."  said  the  general,  "you  did  what  you  could, 
and  I've  done  no  more." 

Charming  poems  about  Ipswich  have  been  written  by  Harriet  Pres- 
cott  Spoftbrd.  <i:iil  Hamilton,  and  John  G.  Whittier;  and  the  latter  has 
characterized  it  as  "beautiful  for  situation  on  its  fair  river  and  pleas- 
ant hills  overlooking  bay  and  islands."  There  are  few  towns  in  New 
England  of  older  date,  or  around  which  cluster  more  historical  and 
legendary  associations.  If  you  can  procure  a  little  book  called  ••Old 
Homes  of  Ipswich,"  published  from  the  "  Ipswich  Chronicle"  ollice.  in 
lss4.  yon  may  find  an  illustrated  account  of  the  town's  antiquities. 

The  linn  and  well-built  roads  of  the  town  give  many  a  view  of  the 
bright  and  winding  little  hide-and-seek  river,  and  of  the  lonely  eastern 
beaches,  and  the  limitless  bine  sea  outside.  The  chief  public  buildings 
are  the  Heard  Library,  a  brick  structure  in  the  early  classic  style, 
erected  by  Augustine  Heard,  a  native;  of  the  town;  the  great  Manning 
School,  with  its  museum,  founded  in  1*74  by  K.  E.  Manning,  of  New 
York;  and  the  venerable  and  famous  Ipswich  Academy,  for  over  half 
a  century  the  finishing-school  of  the  Puritan  maidens  of  this  region. 

There  is  a  neat  little  Episcopal  church  in  the  village,  largely  used 
by  the  visitors  who  in  summer  make  the  roads  and  waters  about  the 
ancient  town  joyous  with  their  parties,  or  rest  peacefully  in  their  ham- 
mocks among  the  wild  roses. 

Some  far-travelled  writer  has  likened  this  region  to  Dorsetshire, 
iu  Southern  England,  and  the  ancient  pastoral  county  may  fee!  proud 
of  the  similitude.  And  what  ('apt.  John  Smith  said  of  our  Ipswich,  in 


63 

the  year  1(514,  still  holds  good :  "  This  place  might  well  content  a  right 
curious  judgment." 

The  Ipswich  Hridge,  a  massive  stone  structure  with  low  Norman 
arches,  was  erected  way  back  in  the  year  17(!4,  at  'the  cost  of  Essex 
County,  the  builder  being  Col.  John  Choate.  who  commanded  the  8th 
Massachusetts  at  the  siege  of  Louisburg.  and  constructed  certain  of 
the  batteries  that  reduced  that  proud  French  fortress.  At  the  dedica- 
tion, Clark,  the  blind  poet  of  Rowley,  recited  his  "Lines."  beginning: 

"  Hehold  this  bridge  of  lime  ami  stone ! 
The  like  before  \vus  never  known 
For  beauty  ami  magnificence, 
Considering  the  small  expense." 

From  the  brce/y  summit  of  Town  Hill  (just  north  of  Ipswich)  you 
may  look  down  on  the  <|iiiet  old  streets  of  the  village,  and  along  the 
silvery  curves  of  the  river,  and  over  to  the  weird  hills  of  Plum  Island, 
and  so  on  out  to  sea,  where  the  frowning  cliffs  of  Cape  Ann  are  fringed 
with  white  surf,  and  the  distant  Isles  of  Shoals  rise  above  the  blue 
waves.  Two  miles  from  the  village  the  picturesque  rural  district 
called  "The  Farms"  overlooks  the  sea.  redolent  with  memories  of  the 
old  colony  days.  Far  out  to  the  eastward  the  road  by  Heart-break  Hill 
leads  out  on  Castle  Neck,  close  to  the  Ipswich  Lights,  and  viewing 
leagues  on  leagues  of  open  sea. 

A  little  steamboat  and  numberless  smaller  craft  ply  on  the  Ipswich 
Kiver,  winding  in  nnd  out  among  the  salt-meadows,  to  Ipswich  Neck 
and  (irape  Island  and  I'lr.m  Island,  and  other  interesting  localities 
toward  the  sea.  Down  this  stream  are  the  Hats  whence  come  the 
famous  clams,  now  for  centuries  the  delight  of  all  gourmands,  and  rich 
in  capabilities  for  chowders.  And  on  either  side  stretch  thousands  of 
acres  of  level  salt-marches,  fragrant  with  the  strong  and  invigorating 
odors  of  the  sea.  and  dotted  \\  itli  picturesque  conical  hay-mows. 


Rowley  station  is  close  to  the  little  tidal  river  of  IJowIey.  which 
winds  away  to  the  eastward  toward  the  desolate  sand-dunes  of  I'lnni 
Island.  The  village  lie>  to  the  south-west,  a  little  over  a  mile  distant. 
The  town  has  nearly  two  thousand  acres  of  -alt-mar-h.  productive  of 
great  quantities  of  hay:  and  ii  al-o  po--c--e-  sonic  twelve  thousand 
apple-trees.  The  tir-t  settlement  occurred  herein  Mils,  and  the  name 
of  the  place  was  that  of  its  Mrs]  pastor's  Knirli-h  vicarage.  In  --The 
\Vonder-working  1'rovideiice  of  Sion's  Savior  in  Ne\\  Knirland"  it  is 
recorded  of  IJowley'-  pioneer-:  ••  They  consj>ic(]  iif  about  thive-score 
families.  Their  people,  beinu'  \  ery  indii-t  ri<>u-  every  way.  -oon  I  milt  as 
many  houses,  and  were  the  tir-t  people  t  hat  -H  upon  making1  doth  in 
thi-  Western  World:  for  which  end  the\  built  a  fulling-mill  and  caused 
their  little  one-  to  be  very  diligent  in  spinning  cotton-wool,  many  of 
them  having  been  clothier-  in  Knuhiml." 


64 

From  this  little  industrial  seed,  therefore,  sprang  the  Lawrences 
and  Lowells,  the  Birmingham^  and  Selmas,  of  our  country,  with  their 
myriads  of  spindles  and  looms ;  while  poor  old  Rowley,  bereft  of  her 
dowry,  is  left  to  lonely  meditation  on  the  edge  of  her  marshes. 

As  the  train  rushes  across  the  sea-meadows  beyond  Rowley,  the 
spectral  sand-hills  of  Plum  Island  cut  the  horizon  on  the  right,  with 
wide  expanses  of  the  blue  sea  visible  bej'oncl,  and  hundreds  of  hay- 
cocks dotting  the  level  green  expanse  of  the  marsh,  like  brown  wig- 
wams. When  the  line  crosses  the  Parker  River,  you  may  catch  a 
glimpse,  far  off  to  the  left,  of  a  little  belfry,  rising  above  the  elm-trees. 
This  is  the  famous  Dummer  Academy,  more  than  a  score  of  whose 
pupils  have  become  congressmen  of  the  United  States. 

Here  stretched  the  estate  of  the  wealthy  and  liberal  Richard  Dum- 
mer, one  of  the  first  settlers  in  Newbury.  His  grandson,  William 


Dummer«Acad 


Dummer,  was  for  many  years  tin-  popular  lieutenant-governor  and 
acting-governor  of  the  province,  and  when  he  died,  in  1701,  he  be- 
queathed his  mansion  (built  1730)  and  his  farm  of  three  hundred  and 
thirty  acres  for  the  establishment  of  a  grammar-school,  which,  in  those 
days  before  the  English  grammar  was  known,  meant  a  school  for  the 
study  of  (Ireek  and  Latin.  So  in  170.'!  the  academy  was  opened.  Fry, 
Tenney,  Hinckley,  Osgood,  and  the  MeClarys  (one  of  whom  was  killed 
at  Hunker  Hill),  and  other  Revolutionary  ollicers,  were  students  here. 
Here  studied  Tobias  Lear,  the  private  secretary  and  eor.iident ial  friend 
of  Washington;  and  here,  side  by  side  with  ('apt.  Richard  Derby,  of 
the  navv,  the  famous  Com.  Kdward  I'reble  conned  his  drowsy  lessons; 
and  Samuel  Osyood,  postmaster-general  of  the  I'liiied  Stales;  and 
Thcoph'lus  Parsons,  our  most  eminent  jurist;  and  Senator  Rufns 
Khiir,  minister  to  England;  and  mauv  another  illustrious  man.  The, 


academy-boys  of  today  stroll  peacefully  over  the  wide  pastures,  or 
from  the  hill-tops  look  out  over  the  winding  rivers,  the  picturesque 
salt-marshes,  and  the  distant  sea ;  or  find  an  acadcmus  in  the  magnifi- 
cent avenues  of  elms  near  by;  or  sail  down  the  Parker,  by  Oldtown 
Hill  and  under  bridges  and  through  leagues  of  salt-marsh,  and  out  by 
Cape  Merrill,  to  the  salty  tides. 

The  Longfellow  house  (  deserted  now  for  twenty-live  years )  stands 
among  rich  smooth  fields,  near  the  head  of  tide-water  on  the  Parker 
River,  marking  the  ancient  home  of  the  ancestors  of  America's  poet. 

Back  among  the  hills  to  the  west  is  Indian  Hill,  the  picturesque  old 
home  of  the  late  Maj.  Ben  :  Perley  Poore,  often  called  '-the  Abbotsford 
of  New  England,"  crowded  with  historical  souvenirs,— the  chandelier 
that  hung  in  Independence  Hall  when  the  immortal  Declaration  was 
signed,  drums  whose  rat-a-plan  sounded  through  the  volleys  at  Bunker 


Hill,  the  carved  marble  mantle  from  (.'apt. -(Jen.  Peter  Stuyvesant's 
house  at  New  Amsterdam,  the  pulpit  from  which  \Vhilcticld  preached, 
documents  signed  by  Xapoleon  Bonaparte.  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  others, 
and  many  other  rare  curiosities. 

Beyond  the  Parker-River  meadows,  rich  in  Holland  scenery  which 
the  deft  pencil  of  Cuyp  or  Unysdacl  might  have  portrayed,  the  lonely 
Knight's  Mills  are  passed,  and  then,  on  the  left,  the  three  poplar-trees 
that  mark  the  location  of  the  Devil's  Den:  then  the  old  Boston  turn- 
pike, and  the  red  powder-house  of  old  Newbury.  far  oil'  in  the  liehls: 
and  then  the  train  sweep-;  around  through  a  ccinture  of  cemeteries 
and  reaches  N'ewburyport. 


66 


CHAPTER  VII. 


AN  ANCIENT  SEA-BLOWN  CITY.— ITS  EXTINCT  COMMERCE. — JOPPA. — 
HIGH  STREET. — LOVELY  ENVIRONS. — PLUM  ISLAND. — SALISBURY 
BEACH. —  THE  MERRLMAC  RIVER. — AMESBURY. 

NEWBURYPORT  has  been  happily  designated  by  Joseph  Cook  as 
i;the  ancient  sea-blown  city  at  the  mouth  of  the  Merrimac  ;"  and 
it  is  indeed  a  quaint  and  dreamy  old  place,  full  of  memorials  of 
the  distant  past.  It  is  probably  the  most  antique  town  in  New 
England  in  appearance,  for  it  has  been  content  to  drift  along  in  the 
good  old  ways  of  the  fathers,  until  a  few  years  ago,  when,  through  the 
exertions  of  its  live  business-men,  it  took  on  a  new  energy,  and  became 
one  of  the  liveliest  towns  in  Eastern  Massachusetts. 

Junius  Henri  Browne  reported  Newburyport  to  be  like  "  some  of  the 
towns  of  old  England, —  Chester,  Shrewsbury,  Lincoln, —  which  have 
ceased  to  cherish  expectations,  whose  importance  is  in  the  past."  It  is 
a  place  of  simple  habits  and  old-time  virtues,  where  frugality  and 
sobriety  supplant  the  anxiety  and  restlessness  that  so  greatly  cloud 
many  lives.  It  has  been  well  said  that  "  Newburyport  is  at  once  the 
most  American  and  least  American  of  all  American  towns." 

In  this  quiet  river-haven  there  are  many  old  salts  who  know  the 
currents  of  Labrador  and  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle,  the  reaches  below 
Calcutta,  and  the  tides  of  the  Baltic,  as  well  as  the  streets  that  wind 
away  under  the  trees  from  Belleville  to  Joppa.  But  the  maritime 
industry  is  wellnigh  extinct;  the  fishermen  lag  superfluous  about  the 
crumbling  wharves ;  and  the  great  ship-yards,  in  which  the  Drrad- 
nanf/ltt  and  scores  of  her  sister  clippers  were  built,  and  many  a  stout 
war-ship  of  the  United-States  Navy,  show  hardly  a  sign  of  life.  The 
town  had  several  distinct  fleets,  for  whaling,  mackercling.  the  Porto- 
Bello  sugar-trade,  the  Labrador  fisheries,  the  Russia  trade,  etc.  The 
port  was  of  such  consequence  that  it  was  closely  blockaded  by  British 
frigates  in  the  War  of  1*12,  hovering  around  the  river's  mouth  like 
noisy  eagles,  and  occasionally  treating  the  lower  part  of  the  town  to  a 
shower  of  solid  shot. 

There  is  no  liner  thoroughfare  in  America  than  High  Street,  a 
broad  and  graceful  avenue  running  along  near  the  crest  of  the  hill  on 
which  the  city  lies,  almost  parallel  with  the  river,  overarched  with  mag- 
nilicent  trees,  bordered  bv  colonial  mansions,  and  stretching  away  for 


67 


three  miles,  from  Deer  Island  to  Oldtown  Green.  The  home  of  Harriet 
Prescott  Spott'ord  is  an  ancient  road-side  tavern  on  Deer  Island,  near 
the  lofty  and  graceful  suspension-bridge,  the  first  one  built  in  America, 
and  within  sight  of  Hawkswood,  the  whilom  estate  of  the  literary 
Fletcher  family,  and  Laurel  Hill,  where  Sir  Edward  Thornton,  the 
British  ambassador,  spent  several  summers,  in  a  castellated  house  look- 
ing over  the  distant  city  to  the  outer  sea;  and  "The  Laurels,"  and 
Artichoke  River,  inspircrs  of  Appleton  Brown's  delicious  paintings 
and  Whittier's  verse  ;  and  Po  Hill,  of  whose  view  Bayard  Taylor  said  : 
"For  quiet  beauty  it  excels  anything  I  have  ever  seen."  Not  far 
away  (at  the  end  of  a  branch  railroad  from  Newburyport)  is  the  pros- 
perous manufacturing-village  of  Amesbury,  witli  the  home  of  John  G. 
Whittier,  the  Walter  Scott  of  all  this  region  of  legendary  and  poetic 
lore,  who  has  thus  beautifully  described  the  seaward  view  from  the 
neighboring  hill  : 


"  Its,  windows  Hashing  to  tin-  sky, 
Beneath  a  thousand  roofs  of  In-own, 
Far  down  the  vale,  my  friend  and  I 
Beheld  the  old  and  quiet  town  ; 
The  L'hnstly  sails  that  out  at  sea 
Flapped  their  while  winirs  of  mystery 
'['lie  lieu-lies  trl imineriiiir  in  the  sun, 
And  the  low  wo..ded  rapes  that  run 
Into  the  sea-mist  north  and  smith  : 
The  sand-Muffs  at  the  river's  nmuth  ; 
'Pile  swinuiiiL.'  rhain-l'rid;.'e.  an  1.  af.ir, 
The  foam-line  of  the  harbor-bar." 

Nor    should    the    pilgrim    omit    to    drive    l.y   ti 
Poore's    Indian-Hill    Farm;    or  :il<>n--   tin-   \\oudrr 
round    DummtT  Academy:    <>r  up  the  river-road 
or  through   the  quaint  maritime/''/"  «"/•;/  of  .lo 
buryport  looking  out  aero--   it-  sea-wall    to  the 


68 

rich  in  the  gray  old  houses  of  the  fishermen,  huddled  sociably  around 
the  narrow  grassy  lanes. 

On  State  Street,  the  main  business-thoroughfare  (the  old  Boston 
turnpike,  ending  here  at  the  Merrimac),  is  the  Wolfe  Tavern,  one  of 
the  best  hotels  of  the  town.  Capt.  William  Davenport  commanded  the 
Essex-North  volunteers  in  the  Conquest  of  Canada,  and  when  he  re- 
turned from  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  in  17G2,  lie  opened  a  public  house 
here,  and  named  it  in  honor  of  his  old  commander,  the  gallant  Gen. 
Wolfe. 

In  the  ancient  mansion  on  State  Street  now  occupied  by  the  Public 
Library,  Washington  and  Lafayette  and  tin.  \r  suites  wore  entertained  in 


princely  style.  The  venerable  Old  South  Church  contains  the  remains 
of  the  great  evangelist,  (icorge  Whitetield.  in  a  cenotaph  of  Egyptian 
and  Italian  marble.  On  High  Street  is  the  stately  old  mansion  of  Lord 
Timothy  Dexter,  whose  many  eccentricities  have  passed  into  history. 
Here  also  is  the  house  of  William  Wheelwright,  in  whose  honor  hron/.e 
statues  have  been  raised  in  Buenos  Ayres  and  Valparaiso.  On  High 
Street,  near  the  Bartlett  Mall,  stands  the  best  statue  of  (ieorge  Wash- 
ington in  existence,  a  heroic  bron/e  figure,  designed  by  J.  Q.  A.  Ward, 
and  presented  to  the  city  by  one  of  its  absent  children.  Mr.  I).  I. 
Tenney,  of  New  York. 

Among  other  natives  and  sometime  residents  of  the  dear  old  town 
were  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  the  liberator,  whose  birthplace  is  shown, 


09 

back  of  the  Old  South  Church ;  Caleb  dishing,  the  diplomat  and  jurist; 
Gen.  A.  W.  Greeley,  the  Arctic  voyager;  Prof.  C.  C.  Felton,  the  learned 
President  of  Harvard  College;  and  Chief-Justice  Samuel  Sewall,  whose 
diary  reproduces  colonial  days  so  admirably. 

The  incidents  connected  with  the  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  millen- 
nium of  history  pertaining  to  this  port,  the  visits  of  Talleyrand  and 
Louis  Philippe,  the  Great  Eire  of  1811,  the  British  blockades,  and  the 
silver-mining  excitement,  cannot  even  be  alluded  to  here. 

The  roads  in  the  vicinity  lead  through  a  great  variety  of  scenery, 
from  the  lonely  cart-tracks  to  the  marsh-islands  and  the  neighboring 
beaches  of  Plum  Island  and  Salisbury,  and  the  pleasant  rural  highways 
of  old  Xewbury.  Tu  this  interesting  town,  down  near  the  Parker 
Kiver,  and  close  to  the  picturesque  Lower  Green,  stands  the  oldest 
tavern  in  America,  opened  by  Jonathan  Poor  in  1(!40,  and  for  centuries 
run  as  a  roadside  inn. 

The  horse-cars  lead  in  little  more  than  half  an  hour,  through  the 


quaint  streets  of  maritime  Joppa.  and  acro-s  the  marshes  which  over- 
look the  mouth  of  the  Merrimac  and  the  broad  Ipswich  meadows,  to 
the  weird  sand-dunes  of  Plum  Island,  where  the  ocean  beat-  with  an 
unceasing  roar.  Here  stands  a  hotel  which  was  opened  as  far  back  as 
the  year  isoil.  and  lias  been  enlarged  and  modernix.ed  within  a  few 
years,  since  the  island  ha-  become  a  place  of  -mnmer-coitai,re-  and 
vernal  joys.  This  locality  command-  m-pirin^  views  over  the  marshes, 
laden  with  odorous  salt-uTa--.  and  dappled  with  silvery  pools  of  water, 
while  in  the  background  are  the  -pire-  and  tower-  of  NYwburyport. 
as  ell'ective  from  tin-  point  of  view  a-  an  Italian  coast-city:  and  in  the 
fai'ther  di-tance.  as  bine  a-  the  sea.  ri-e  the  beautiful  rounded  hills  ,,f 
Ip-wich  and  (  ildtou  n  and  Ame-bury.  (  >ne  of  Harriet  P'-e-cotl  Spof- 
ford's  line-t  stories.  "The  South  Breaker."  refers  to  a  locality  at  the 
month  of  the  Merrimac  on  this  ^Innv.  and  -he  ha-  also  written  no 
better  poem  than  ••  In-ide  Plum  I-Iand  :" 


70 

"  Yet  long  as  summer  breezes  blow, 

Waves  murmur,  rushes  quiver, 

Those  warbling  echoes  everywhere 

Will  haunt  Plum-Island  River!  " 

The  downward  trend  of  the  beach  is  so  steep,  and  the  undertow  so 
strong,  that  sea-bathing  may  not  be  undertaken  here ;  but  in  the  tidal 
lagoon  called  the  Basin,  opening  from  the  river,  still-water  bathing  is 
practicable.  Around  this  shore,  and  towards  the  light-houses,  extends 
a  colony  of  simply-built  cottages,  with  a  pier  at  which  the  steamboat 
from  Newburyport  stops,  and  a  singular  steam-railway.  Plum  Island 
stretches  away  to  the  southward  for  many  miles,  a  perilous  shore,  sor- 
rowfully renowned  for  fatal  wrecks,  down  to  the  Bluft's,  at  the  mouth 
of  Ipswich  liiver. 

Public  carriages  run  several  times  daily  from  Newburyport  to  Salis- 
bury Beach ;  and  steamboats  also  ply  on  the  river,  from  the  city  to  the 


southern  end  of  the  beach,  where  horse-cars  may  be  taken  for  other 
points. 

Salisbury  Beach  will  be  forever  memorable  as  the  scene  of 
Wliittier's  "The  Tent  on  the  Beach,"  in  which  James  T.  Fields,  Baj'ard 
Taylor,  and  the  venerable  poet  himself  encamped  one  summer,  narrat- 
ing the  legends  of  the  surrounding  country  and  sea.  Here  they 

"  Pitched  their  white  tent  where  sea-winds  blew. 

Behind  them,  marshes,  seamed  and  crossed 

With  narrow  creeks,  and  flower-embossed, 
Stretched  to  the  dark  oak  wood,  whose  leafy  arms 
Screened  from  the  stormy  east  the  pleasant  inland  farms. 

"  At  full  of  tide  their  bolder  shore 

Of  sun-bleached  sand  the  waters  beat; 
At  ebb,  a  smooth  and  glistening  floor 

They  touched  with  liuht,  receding  feet. 
Northward,  a  green  bluff  broke  the  chain 
Of  sand-hills;  southward  stretched  a  plain 


71 

Of  salt-grass,  with  a  river  winding  down 

Bail- whitened,  and  beyond,  the  steeples  of  the  town." 

Nothing  can  be  added  to  this  singing  description,  save  to  say  that 
the  bluffs  are  now  dotted  with  summer-cottages,  occupied  mainly  by 
families  from  inland  Essex.  There  are  also  a  few  small  inns ;  and  a 
horse-railroad  runs  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Merrimac,  a  distance  of 
perhaps  two  miles.  Public  conveyances  meet  the  trains  at  Salisbury 
station  and  are  driven  out  to  the  beach,  the  last  part  of  the  route  cross- 
ing a  section  of  the  famous  Hampton  marshes,  an  area  of  ten  thousand 
acres,  stretching  from  the  Merrimac  to  Hampton  River,  and  on  which 
are  stacked  fifteen  thousand  tons  of  salt-hay.  The  beach  also  extends 
to  the  Hampton  River,  a  distance  of  six  miles  from  the  Merrimac,  but 
nearly  all  of  its  northern  three-fourths  is  solitary  and  unoccupied. 
The  great  festal  occasion  of  this  locality  here  occurs  on  a  certain  day 
late  in  the  month  of  August,  when  many  thousands  of  people  from  the 
upper  country  assemble  on  the  beach,  and  listen  to  speeches  from 
famous  orators,  reviewing  questions  of  living  popular  interest. 

The  beauties  of  the  Merrimac  above  Newburyport  may  be  enjoyed 
by  taking  the  steamboat  for  Haverhill,  from  whose  deck  you  may  see 
Deer  Island,  Laurel  Hill,  Hawkswood.  Salisbury  Point.  Rocks  Bridge, 
and  the  other  noted  localities.  By  descending  the  river  to  its  mouth, 
you  may  see  the  summer-villages  there,  and  the  great  jetties  now  being 
erected,  at  enormous  cost,  to  improve  the  navigation  of  the  river. 

Here  we  may  read  Whittier's  poem.  "The  Merrimac,"  beginning: 

"  Stream  of  my  fathers  !  sweetly  still 
The  sunset  rays  thy  valley  till; 
1'oured  slantwise  down  the  long  delile, 
Wave,  wood,  and  spire  beneath  tliei 
There  's  not  a  tree  upon  thy  side, 
Nor  rock,  which  thy  returning  tide 
As  yet  hath  left  abrupt  and  stark 
Above  thy  evening  water-mat  k; 
No  calm  cove  witli  its  rocky  hem, 
No  isle  whose  emerald  swells  he-em 
Thy  broad,  smooth  current  :  not  a  s; 
Bowed  to  the  freslienin-  ocean  -ale: 
N"o  small  boat  with  its  busy  oars, 
Nor  -ray  wall  slopin-  tot  hy  shores  : 
Nor  farm-house  with  ils  maple  shad 
( )r  ri-id  poplar  colonnade. 
But  lies  distinct  and  full  in  si-ht. 
Beneath  tins  irush  of  sunset  light.'' 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


SEABROOK.  —  HAMPTON  FALLS.  —  HAMPTON.  —  BOAR'S  HEAD.  —  RYE 
BEACH.  —  LITTLE  BOAR'S  HEAD.  —  STRAW'S  POINT.  —  CONCORD 
POINT.— A  GROUP  OF  BEACH  PICTURES. 

REFRESHED  by  a  rest  at  charming  old  Newburyport.  we  prepare 
to  resume  our  northward  journey  once  more. 
Almost  as  soon  as  the  train  leaves  the  station,  it  runs  out  on 
the  bridge  over  the  Merrimac  River,  which  flows  in  wide  full 
current  here,  and  affords  a  beautiful  prospect,  upward  to  Belleville 
and  Po  Hill,  or  downward  by  the  gray  old  wharves  and  quaint  spires  of 
the  city,  to  the  two  channel-piers  below,  and  then  on  to  Plum  Island, 
with  its  white  light-house  and  many  cottages,  and  the  broad  mouth  of 
the  river,  and  Black  Rock  on  the  opposite  shore,  near  the  tall  pointed 
beacon  which  facetious  Essex  North  calls  "Gen.  Butler's  Tooth-pick." 
Nearer  the  bridge,  on  the  north  shore,  are  the  weather-beaten  old 
houses  of  Ring's  Island,  one  of  the  most  ancient  of  the  villages  of 
Salisbury,  and  studded  all  over  with  legends.  Flying  across  the  salt- 
marshes  of  Town  Creek,  with  long  views  on  the  left  to  upper  New- 
buryport. the  train  presently  comes  to  the  level  and  outspread  village 
of  Salisbury.  In  this  gray  old  town  we  may  visit  the  Rocky-Hill 
Church,  built  in  177:1.  with  its  high-placed  pulpit  and  helmet-shaped 
sounding-board,  and  the  large  square  pew  of  the  deacons;  or  the  low- 
roofed  birthplace  of  Caleb  dishing,  the  renowned  jurist  and  Diplomat: 
or  the  old  home  of  Daniel  Webster's  mother:  or  the  audience-room  of 
the  royal  commissioners  of  10!>!>:  or  the  remnants  and  relics  of  the 
more  ancient  Indian  settlements,  up  by  Ilawkswood. 

The  Amesbury  Branch  runs  from  Newburyport  to  the  brisk  indus- 
trial village  of  Amcsbury.  from  which  carriages  are  shipped  by  thou- 
sands to  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  home  of  Whittier  is  the  great 
object  of  attraction  for  cultivated  tourists. 

Beyond  Salisbury  we  traverse  a  long  stretch  of  the  Follymill 
Woods,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  interesting  forests  in  New  Eng- 
land, and  celebrated  in  the  exquisite  poetry  of  Whittier.  Somewhere 
in  tliis  fair  wilderness,  the  railroad  enters  Rockingham  County,  in  New 
Hampshire',  the  famous  old  Granite  State,  whose  rich  tide-water  plains 
are  fringed  with  sea-repelling  beaches,  while  inland  they  rise,  by  many 
a  terrace  of  picturesque  blue  hills,  and  past  many  a  lovelv  highland 


lake,  to  the  noble  peaks  of  the  White  Mountains.  The  first  town  that 
the  railway  enters  is  Seabrook.  whose  many  salty  tidal  brooks  sink 
away  into  the  sea  to  the  eastward.  The  (irst  settlements  here  were 
made  in  the  perilous  days  of  IG.'W ;  and  a  number  of  the  pioneers  suf- 
fered death  in  its  most  horrible  forms,  at  the  hands  of  the  Indian  lords 
of  the  soil. 


Not  quite  a  mile  t'nun  the  Cation  of  Hampton  Fall-  i-  the  ancient 
hamlet  of  the  same  name,  with  it-  low-lyin-  farm-houses  and  -leek 
cattle,  and  a  monument  erected  by  the  State  to  Me-liech  \\Yaiv.  the 
first  president  of  New  Hamp-hiiv.  whose  rule  covered  the  dark  \var< 
from  177C,  to  17s5.  Away  back  in  the  year  17:57.  the  -overnor of  Ma--a- 
chusetts  rode  into  the  village,  attended  by  the  I,ei.'i-lature  and  escorted 
by  five  troop-  of  horse,  and  met  the  governor  and  Legislature  of  New 


74 

Hampshire,  to  hold  long  debates  with  them  about  the  boundaries  of  the 
two  provinces.  The  dispute  was  carried  on  for  many  days,  in  the 
famous  George  Tavern;  and  finally  the  "poor,  little,  loyal,  distressed 
province  of  New  Hampshire  "  appealed  its  cause  to  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land, whose  king  decided  against  the  claims  of  Massachusetts,  even 
then  characterized  as  a  "vast,  opulent,  and  overgrown  province." 

As  the  train  flies  over  the  wide  Hampton  marshes,  veined  by  Hamp- 
ton River  and  its  tributary  creeks,  off  to  the  eastward,  across  the  level 
plain,  and  beyond  its  many  hay -mows,  appear  the  houses  on  Hampton 
Beach,  with  the  high  headland  of  Boar's  Head.  The  abundant  salt-hay 
on  these  amphibious  meadows  is  as  valuable  now  as  two  hundred  and 
fifty  years  ago,  when  it  led  the  first  company  of  immigrants,  from 
bonnie  old  English  Norfolk,  to  settle  here,  on  the  Indian  domain  called 
Winnecummet.  This  region  has  been  made  classic  by  the  poems  of 
Whittier,  "The  AVreck  of  Rivermouth,"  "The  Changeling,"  "Hampton 
Beach,"  and  others,  in  which  occur  admirable  pen-pictures  of  the  local 
scenery  by  field  and  flood. 

"  For  there  the  river  comes  winding  down 
From  salt  sea-meadows  and  uplands  brown, 
And  waves  on  the  outer  rocks  a-foam 
Shout  to  its  waters  '  Welcome  home !  "' 

At  Hampton  station,  the  broad  platforms  are  ofttimes  crowded 
with  summer-travellers,  and  hotel-coaches  line  the  adjacent  roadway. 
Hampton  is  an  idyllic  old  place,  nestling  under  magnificent  elms  and 
amid  broad  green  fields,  "the  loveliest  village  of  the  plain,"  with 
a  couple  of  good  inns,  and  a  large  summer-patronage.  The  people  are 
all  of  American  stock,  simple  and  frugal  in  their  habits,  and  dwelling, 
many  of  them,  in  houses  that  have  been  in  the  same  families  since  the 
days  of  the  royal  Georges.  For  Hampton  was  settled  as  early  as  the 
year  1038,  and  remained  for  some  years  a  practically  independent 
border  republic,  negotiating  in  simple  diplomacy  with  the  similar  com- 
monwealths of  Exeter.  Dover,  etc.  For  forty  years  these  communes 
formed  a  part  of  Massachusetts. 

Here  you  may  be  shown  the  site  of  the  old  Bond  house,  the  first 
edifice  erected  in  Hampton;  or  the  Bridal  Elm,  under  whose  branches 
Avas  celebrated  the  first  wedding  in  town;  or  the  "haunted  house;  "  or 
the  old  academy,  where  Rufus  Choate  was  a  pupil. 

The  three-mile  ride  from  the  station  to  the  beach  leads  through  a 
pleasant  and  arable  farming-country,  amid  gray  old  colonial  houses  and 
ample  barns  and  aisles  of  verdurous  trees.  Hampton  Beach  is  a  broad 
strip  of  white  sand,  between  the  great  brae  sea  and  a  long  line  of 
summer-cottages  and  hotels,  and  witli  the  black  heads  of  the  Kiver- 
mouth Rocks  running  out  into  deep  water  on  the  south,  oft'  the  entrance 
to  the  lagoon  of  Hampton  River.  A  half-century  or  more  ago,  this 
was  the  home-harbor  for  a  fleet  of  fishing-schooners  and  coasters,  all 
of  which  have  long  since  gone  to  "  Daw  .Jones's  locker."  The  crown- 


75 

ing  glory  of  the  beach  is  at  its  northern  end,  the  famous  promontorj 
of  Boar's  Head,  a  high  green  hill  of  a  score  of  acres,  projecting  intc 
the  sea,  and  crowned  by  the  Boar's-IIead  House,  for  nearly  half  i 
century  the  most  famous  hotel  on  New  Hampshire's  shore.  The  vie\\ 
from  this  eyrie  is  one  of  the  noblest  on  the  American  coast,  with  the 
intense  blue  of  the  deep  sea  rounding  half  the  horizon,  from  the  din 
sierras  of  Cape  Ann,  far  away  in  the  south,  and  the  weird  rocks  of  the 
Isles  of  Shoals,  around  over  Rye  Beach  and  the  approaches  to  New- 
castle and  Portsmouth  Harbor,  and  the  deep-blue  dome  of  Mount  Aga- 
menticus. Landward  stretches  the  pale  green  of  the  marshes,  abort 
which  rise  great  flocks  of  birds ;  and  the  elm-embowered  village  oi 
Hampton,  and  the  distant  spires  of  Newburyport,  and  the  rugged 
mountains  of  Peterborough,  Monadnock's  great  brethren.  At  night, 
the  warning  stars  of  thirteen  light-houses,  from  Thatcher's  Island  tc 
Portland,  are  visible  from  this  half-islanded  plateau. 

"  And  fair  are  the  sunny  isles  in  view 

East  of  the  grisly  Head  of  the  I!oar, 
And  Agamenticus  lifts  its  blue 

Disk  of  a  cloud  the  woodlands  o'er; 
And  southerly,  when  the  tide  is  down, 

'Twixt  white  sea-waves  and  sand-hills  brown, 
The  beach-birds  dance  and  the  gray  gulls  wheel 
Over  a  floor  of  burnished  steel.'' 

—John  Greenleaf  Whittier. 

Along  the  beach,  which  runs  southward  for  two  miles  to  Hampton 
River,  are  some  scores  of  primitive  cottages,  with  several  large  hotels. 
This  strand  is  famous  for  fine  surf,  which  plunges  down  its  long  line 
in  combing  green  billows,  and  roars  around  the  ledges  below  the  Ocean 
House.  Whatsoever  things  are  desirable  in  bathing,  fishing,  driving. 
or  rambling  are  found  at  their  best  here;  and  the  remoteness  of  tin- 
place  from  railroads  keeps  on"  most  of  the  unlovely  transient,  element 
of  summer-scorched  picnic-people.  The  beautiful  rur&\  ptaisaitnce  of 
the  ancient  farming-town  comes  riii'ht  down  to  the  shore,  with  its  rich 
fields  and  shadowy  trees  and  shrubbery,  giving  a  charm  to  the  scenery 
that  is  not  found  at  those  beaches  which  are  isolated  by  sun-scorched 
salt-meadows  and  sandy  plains. 

Rye  Beach,  is  within  easy  walkiuir  or  driving  distance  of  Hampton 
Beach,  by  a  noble  sea-viewmir  road,  which  lead-  up  by  Little  Hoar's 
Head.  But  the  way  for  outsiders  to  reach  this  delightful  place  is  to 
leave  the  train  at  North  Hampton,  the  station  beyond  Hampton,  and 
rule  four  miles  across  country  on  the  -taire. 

Little  Boar's  Head,   where  the  road   from  the  station    reaches  the 
beach  and  turns  northward  toward  the  Karrayu)    House 
headland   projecting  into  the  sea.  and  occupied   by  a  scor 
summer-villas  and  boarding-house-;  and  on  the  cre-l  i-  Tt 
with  its  connected    family-cottages,  leased  by  the  season.      lit 
Franklin   Tierce  built  a  hou-e.  -mne  thirty   years  air* 


76 

most  of  the  summers  after  his  retirement  from  the  White  House.  Sec. 
Robeson,  Mrs.  Stowe,  and  other  notables  have  been  sojourners  here. 

Rye  Beach  is  the  most  fashionable  and  brilliant  of  the  New-Hamp- 
shire beaches,  and  overflows  all  through  the  delicious  summer  with  the 
best  of  societ}",  much  of  which  comes  from  distant  cities  and  states. 
On  one  side,  it  fronts  towards  the  beautiful  sea;  and  on  the  other  are 
gray-walled  old  country-roads,  embosomed  in  apple-orchards  and  lead- 
ing through  miles  of  Arcadian  scenery.  The  chief  hotel  is  the  Farra- 
gut  House,  and  a  little  farther  back  from  the  beach  is  the  Sea-View 
House.  The  exotic  Episcopal  guests  of  summer  have  erected  here  the 
quaint  stone  chapel  of  St.-Andrew's-by-the-Sea,  with  its  sturdy  tower 
and  far-sounding  bell. 

Over  ten  thousand  summer-visitors  are  accommodated  every  season 
at  Eye,  many  of  them  being  from  the  Western  States.  One  of  the 
charms  of  the  locality  is  its  perfect  blending  of  country  farm-life  and 
sea-shore  life,  where,  in  typical  old  farm-houses,  deeply  hidden  among 
the  orchards  and  corn-fields  and  hedges,  you  may  find  a  rural  restful- 
ness  unexcelled  in  Berkshire  or  Minnesota;  while  within  a  mile  or  two 
the  sea  roars  along  its  white-embroidered  strand.  There  are  dozens 
of  these  country-houses  in  Rye.  where  summer-boarders  may  find 
accommodations. 

A  favorite  promenade  is  the  two-mile-long  plank  walk  which  leads 
southward  from  the  Farragut  to  Little  Boar's  Head,  along  the  top  of 
the  famous  sea-wall,  and  commands  views  of  diverse  beauty,  —  the 
inland  emerald  and  the  seaward  Jajns-lnsuli,  the  Shoals,  the  procession 
of  ships,  and  the  ever-moving  billows. 

A  charming  shore-road  leads  from  Rye  Beach  to  Straw's  Point,  witli 
the  rippling  sea  on  one  side'  and  the  green  country  on  the  other,  and 
occasional  summer-cottages,  overlooking  the  crest  of  the  beach.  At 
Straw's  Point  is  the  station  of  the  direct  cable  to  England,  a  relay 
station  for  strengthening  the  electric  current  between  New  York  and 
Torbay.  in  Nova  Scotia. 

From  the  Greenland  station  a  mail-stage  runs  two  and  a  half  miles 
eastward  to  the  quaint  village  of  Rye.  over  which  an  air  of  antiquity 
broods  like  a  perpetual  charm.  The  six  miles  of  beaches  belonging  to 
this  ancient  town  include  Foss's  Beach.  Wallis  Sands,  and  other  well- 
known  localities,  full  of  rare  natural  beauty,  and  overflowed  perpetually 
by  the  life-giving  air  of  the  ocean.  Hampton,  Portsmouth.  Newcastle, 
and  Exeter  are  within  easy  driving-distance,  over  roads  of  rare  beauty 
and  interest.  The  bathing  on  the  beaches  is  very  good. 

Concord  Point,  live  miles  from  Portsmouth  and  six  miles  from  Rye 
Beach,  was  a  lonely  and  barren  pasture  as  late  as  the  year  1*70,  but 
now  it  is  a  prosperous  sea-side  resort,  occupied  chiefly  by  citizens  of 
Concord.  —  the  Kimballs.  Thayers.  Emerys.  Mori-ills,  and  others.  It 
commands  a  fine  view  of  the  Isles  of  Shoals,  only  six  miles  oil'  shore. 


77 


:;|l!!;i!'!:'  '    \    ":"'""" ; '!••.' 


T8 


CHAPTER  IX. 


STRAWBERRY  BANK. — A  NAVAL  POUT. — HISTORIC  HOTTSES. — BOOKS 

ABOUT    THE   TOWN. —  TlIE   UNITED-STATES   NAVY-YAKD. 

PORTSMOUTH  is  one  of  the  dear  and  precious  old  towns  of  New 
England,  surrounded  with  an  aureole  of  delightful  legends  and 
historic  events,  and  abounding  in  memories  of  great  men.  The 
rapid-flowing  Piscataqua  sweeps  by  its  leaning  old  wharves,  to 
enter  the  sea  a  league  below.  The  history  of  the  town  is  full  of  inter- 
esting episodes,  from  the  dawn  of  1G03,  when  Capt.  Martin  Pring  came 
sailing  up  the  river  in  search  of  sassafras,  and  1G14,  when  the  adven- 
turous Capt.  John  Smith  explored  the  lonely  harbor.  Soon  afterwards, 
the  first  .settlers  began  to  arrive,  Thompson  and  his  Scottish  fishermen 
at  Odiorne's  Point,  and  Chadbourne  at  the  Great  House  (on  Court 
Street).  The}'  called  the  colony  "  Strawberry  Bank"  for  many  years, 
after  a  luxuriant  bed  of  wild  strawberries  near  the  river;  and  in  1G53 
the  Massachusetts  General  Court  gave  it  the  name  of  PORTSMOUTH, 
"as  being  a  name  most  suitable  for  this  place,  it  being  the  river's 
month,  and  as  good  as  any  in  the  land.  It  was  also  the  name  of  the 
English  city  in  which  John  Mason  (the  first  governor)  was  born."  For 
more  than  a  century,  the  home  of  the  royal  governors  and  the  king's 
council  rested  here. 

Portsmouth  lias  always  been  a  naval  and  military  town,  from  the 
seventeenth  century,  when  the  British  convoy-frigates  refitted  lien-. 
and  sent  their  roystering  Jack  Tars  on  leave  through  the  narrow  colo- 
nial streets,  to  the  recent  days  of  the  Constitution  and  Jicnrxftrf/e  and 
their  gallant  crews.  From  this  region  went  the  rugged  troops  whom 
Washington  inquired  about  as  they  boldly  marched  into  his  camp,  and 
was  answered  by  Cilley,  of  Nottingham:  "They're  full-blooded  Yan- 
kees, by .  from  Rockingham  County,  that  have  never  yet  turned 

their  backs  on  any  man."  And  here  also  were  enlisted  the  New-Hamp- 
shire companies  whom  Washington  found  on  guard  at  West  Point  the 
day  after  Arnold's  treason,  and  to  whom  lie  said  :  "  I  believe  I  can  trust 
you."  Here  we  may  listen  to  Aldrich's  sweet  Piscataqua  poem  : 


79 


And  then  to  hear  the  muffled  tolls 

From  steeples  slim  and  white, 
And  watch,  among  the  Isles  of  Shoals, 

The  Beacon's  orange  light." 

In  rambling  about  these  quaint  old  streets,  you  may  come  upon  the 
law-ollice  of  Daniel  Webster;  the  lightning-rod  put  up  by  Benjamin 
Franklin;  the  colonial-built  Athemeum,  on  Market  Square,  with  its 
great  library  and  museum;  the  Warner  mansion,  built  in  1718-23,  of 
bricks  brought  from  Holland,  with  interiors  of  panelled  wood ;  the 
United-States  building,  erected  during  the  administration  of  Pros. 
Franklin  Pierce,  and  from  its  top  overlooking  the  sea,  the  swift  Pis- 
cataqua,  and  the  Isles  of  Shoals;  the  office  of  the  "New-Hampshire 
Gazette,"  which  dates  its  beginning  from  175G;  the  old  Episcopal 
Church  of  St.  John,  containing  the  first  organ  used  in  America,  and 
imported  in  1713  by  Thomas  Brattle  for  King's  Chapel,  Boston;  the 


Haliburton  house,  at  25  Islington  Street,  where  "Sam  Slick"  often 
made  visits;  the  Ladd  house,  built  in  17(!0  by  the  rich  English  mer- 
chant, John  Molfat,  and  afterwards  the  home  of  William  Whipple,  a 
signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  general  of  brigade  in 
the  Continental  Army;  the  Langdon  house,  where  Louis  Philippe  of 
France  was  entertained;  the  Lear  house,  where  Tobias  Lear,  Washing- 
ton's private  secretary,  was  born;  and  tin-  homes  of  the  Penhallow, 
Pickering,  Went  worth,  Livermore.  Fernald.  Buckminster,  Vauglian, 
Kherburne,  and  other  famous  provincial  families.  All  these  houses  and 
their  traditions,  and  the  old  churches,  and  Christian  Shore' and  Brim- 
stone Hill  and  other  localities,  are  described  in  the  bright  little  "Ports- 
mouth Guide-Book."  for  sale  at.  the  book-stores. 

The  modern  city,  growing;  up  in  an  1  around  ancient,  Portsmouth, 
is  full  of  keen  enterprise  and  activity,  one  of  its  most  popular  and 
famous  features  being  the  immense  brewery  wherein  Frank  Jones's  ale 
is  prepared,  in  numberless  cauldrons  and  vats. 


81 

If  you  can  find  a  copy  of  "  Brewster's  Rambles  about  Portsmouth," 
or  Adams's  "Annals  of  Portsmouth,"  or  the  "Poets  of  Portsmouth" 
(published  in  18G5),  you  may  enjoy  a  rich  antiquarian  feast,  and  find 
many  places  of  deep  interest  along  these  old  cobble-paved  streets.  Or 
you  may  read  pleasant,  descriptions  in  Aldrich's  "  Story  of  a  Bad  Boy" 
and  "  Prudence  Palfrey  ;  "  and  in  Shillaber's  works  ;  and  in  Longfellow's 
poem  of  Lady  AVentworth  : 

"One  hundred  years  as;o  ami  something  more, 
In  Queen  Street,  Portsmouth,  at  her  tavern-door." 

The  United-States  navy-yard  was  founded  here  as  early  as  177">, 
when  Langdon  built  the  frigate  H<i1<'i<jh,  on  Badger's  Island.  Here  also 
the  Amcricd  came  into  existence,  under  the  care  of  John  Paul  Jones. 
In  1S()()  the  National  (ioverninent  bought,  Fernald's  Island  (which  had 
been  granted  by  Sir  Eerdinando  (Jorges  to  Thomas  Fernald,  "as 
long  as  the  grass  grows  and  the  water  runs"),  and  established  here  a 
first-class  naval  station,  where  many  famous  ships  have  been  built. 
The  ship-houses,  barracks,  gun-park,  floating  dry-dock,  saluting-bat- 


tery,  and  other  structures,  arc  interestiuu'  to  visit.  The  government 
steamboat  leaves  Daniel  Street.  Portsmouth,  several  times  daily,  and 
civilians  cross  on  the  ferry  to  Kiltery  Fore-ide.  and  then  walk  across 
the  bridge,  past  harmless  sentries  of  the  Marine  Corps.  Among  the 
products  of  this  dock-yard  were  the  I'mujri-xa,  which  was  sunk  by  the 
.][<'rri>it<ic.  and  the  Kcurxni'iji-.  the  conqueror  of  the  AJ/iTmnia.  The  G>il- 
!•»//.  Ymitic.  Sn-dtarii.  and  other  ve-^rK  of  the  North- Atlantic  si|uadron 
often  visit  Kittery:  and  the'  lirave  old  ('mixtitntiuii.  freiirhted  with 
four-score  years  of  glory,  lies  here  at  her  moorings.  Here,  reading 
Ilolmcs's  "Old  Ironsides."  we  mav  >ee 


CHAPTER  X. 


flEWCflSTIiE. 


FORGOTTEN  FORTRESSES. — THE  WAUJACH  TOWEK. —  THE  HOTEL 
WEXTWORTII. — JAFFREY  POIXT. — THE  HOMES  OF  Two  POETS. — 
BITS  OF  SEA-SONG. —  THE  HOUSE  OF  GOVERNOR  WEXTWORTH. 

THE  ancient  village  of  Newcastle  lies  at  the  mouth  of  Ports- 
mouth Harbor,  on  the  river-ward  side  of  Great  Island,  with  its 
narrow  lanes  and  little  moss-grown  houses,  inhabited  by  about 
six  hundred  people,  whose  ancestors  were  among  the  most  dar- 
ing and  expert  navigators  on  this  (or  any  other)  coast.  Here  they  will 
show  you  the  house  of  Paul  Jones's  boatswain ;  the  building  in  which 
Randall,  the  founder  of  the  Free  Baptists,  preached  his  first  sermon , 
the  venerable  Sheafe  mansion ;  and  other  storied  memorials  of  olden 
times. 

The  light-house  was  built  in  1771  by  Gov.  John  Wentworth,  and  be- 
came the  property  of  the  United  States  in  1780.  when  it  was  remodelled 
and  cut  down.  The  island  was  fortified  by  John  Mason,  early  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  with  an  intrenchment  mounting  ten  cannon  ;  and 
a  new  fort  was  built  in  1GGG.  and  afterwards  received  the  royal  names 
of  William  and  Mary.  In  1774  the  "Liberty  Boys"  of  Portsmouth,  at 
Paul  Revere's  summons,  captured  this  fortress  by  surprise,  and  car- 
ried off  its  armament,  sending  a  hundred  barrels  of  the  king's  powder 
to  the  American  army  besieging  Boston.  This  was  served  hot  to  the 
redcoats  at  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  A  British  fleet  re-captured  the 
empty  fort  soon  afterwards,  but  the  garrison  sailed  away  in  1775.  Fort 
Constitution  was  built  on  the  ruins  of  the  old  Provincial  fortress  in 
ls.08,  and  partly  rebuilt  in  ]sG3,  remaining  now  a  great  granite  ruin, 
out  on  the  lonely  Fort  Point. 

Near  the  fort  is  the  ancient  ^Yalbach  Tower,  a  brick  fortification  in 
the  form  of  a  Martello  tower,  wiji  casemated  embrasures  and  a  dimin- 
utive maga/ine.  It  was  erected  nearly  eighty  years  ago  by  Col.  John 
DeBarth  Walbach,  formerly  an  officer  in  Prince  Maximilian's  Royal 
Al>acc  Heiriment.  and  in  later  years  commander  of  Fort  Constitution. 
When  an  alarm  was  given  of  approaching  enemies,  the  old  Alsatian 
colonel  mounted  his  only  cannon  on  the  tower  and  awaited  their  broad- 
sides: but  the  hostile  ships  merely  looked  into  the  harbor,  and  then 
bore  away. 

Over  the  tranquil   lagoon  of   Little  Harbor  rises  the  Hotel  Went- 


worth,  a  mile  from  the  old  village,  on  the  highest  point  of  tho  island, 
seventy-live  feet  above  the  sen.  The  views  from  the  Wentworth 
include  the  open  sea,  the  spires  and  roofs  of  Portsmouth,  the  great  hill 
of  Agamcnticus,  and  the  blue  ranges  of  Nottingham  and  Strafl'onl. 
There  is  every  facility  here  for  boating  and  bathing,  fishing  and  driv- 
ing, and  the  countless  forms  of  in-door  amusement  so  popular  during 
the  cool  evenings  of  summer. 

Public  conveyances  run  over  the  league-long  road  from  Portsmouth 
to  Newcastle  several  times  daily,  crossing  the  river  on  a  long  bridge 
which  rests  on  several  islets.  Other  stages  run  to  the  Wentworth, 
using  a  different  road,  and  crossing  the  famous  Sagamore  Creek,  with 
historic  estates  bordering  its  banks. 


Jalirey  (or  Jerry's)  Point  was  fortified  at  an  early  dale,  and  armed 
with  brass  guns  provided  by  the  merchant  >  of  London;  but  the-e 
works,  and  their  successors  of  (lie  lime  of  ISIL',  \vere  removed  to  make 
room  for  more  modern  batteries,  which  have  not  been  completed. 

At  .Tatl'rey  Point  is  Kelp  Pock,  the  beautiful  summer-home  of  Ed- 
mund ('.  Stedman,  the  New-York  banker-poet  :  and  near  by  nestle-  the 
home  of  John  Albee.  the  poet,  whose  little  book  about  Newcastle  con- 
tains scores  of  fascinating  legends.  ThK  houM'  is  over  t  wo  hundred 
years  old.  and  the  Provincial  Legislature  held  its  Scs-ions  of  li'>s_'  am" 
li'is;1,  under  its  hospitable  roof,  when  Crautield.  the  Iloyal  Governor, 
dwelt  here.  Albee's  "Ho^'ii  Hill"  and  other  strong  Emersonian  poem- 
are  familiar  to  manv  readers.  It  begins: 


84 

Low  overhead  the  gulls  scream  shrill, 
And  homeward  scuds  each  little  boat." 

It  may  be  allowed  us  to  give  one  of  Stedman's  magnificent  verses, 
written  in  his  stone  tower  beyond  the  low  gray  walls  and  the  wild- 
rose  thickets : 

"  Splendors  of  morning  the  billow-crests  brighten, 

Lighting  and  luring  them  on  to  the  land, 
Far-away  waves  where  the  wan  vessels  whiten, 

Blue  rollers  breaking  in  surf  where  we  stand, 
Curved  like  the  necks  of  a  legion  of  horses, 

Each  with  his  froth-gilded  mane  flowing  free, 
Hither  they  speed  in  perpetual  courses, 

Bearing  thy  riches,  O  beautiful  sea !  " 

The  old  Wentworth  house,  on  Little  Harbor,  was  built  in  1750  by 
Benning  Wentworth,  Governor  of  New  Hampshire  from  17-il,  the  time 
of  its  separation  from  Massachusetts,  until  1766,  when  his  nephew 
John  (afterwards  Sir  John  Wentworth)  succeeded  him.  The  old  Gov- 
ernor married  his  house-maid,  Martha  Hilton  (as  set  forth  in  Long- 
fellow's "Lady  Wentworth");  and  after  his  death  she  wedded  Col. 
Wentworth,  a  veteran  officer  of  Culloden  and  Fontenoy.  The  chief  of 
the  forty-five  rooms  in  this  venerable  house  is  the  oak-studded  council- 
chamber,  with  its  huge  carved  fire-place,  and  its  rare  portraits  of 
Dorothy  Quincy  (John  Hancock's  wife),  by  Copley,  Secretary  Waldron, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Wentworth,  Earl  of  Stafford.  In  the  hall  are  the 
racks  of  the  governor's  guard,  with  their  twelve  flint-lock  muskets; 
and  below  the  house  is  a  great  cellar,  where  in  old  times  thirty  horses 
were  kept  saddled  and  ready  for  a  march,  in  days  of  emergency. 


COTTAGE  AT  JAFFUEY  POINT. 


S6 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  ISLES  OF  SHOALS. 

THE  LEIGHTONS. —  Ax  ARTISTS'  AND  AUTHORS'  RESORT.— VIEWS  OF 
SEA  AND  SKY. — THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PIRATES  AND  SEAL-HUNTERS. 
—  APPLEDORE. —  STAR  ISLAND. — A  VANISHED  TOWN. 

THE  Isles  of  Shoals  form  a  unique  watering-place  in  the  ocean,  ten 
or  twelve  miles  from  Portsmouth,  from  which  steamboats  run 
hither  several  times  daily.     The  season  lasts  from  mid-June  well 
into  September,  during  which  thousands  of  visitors  come  here  to 
enjoy  the  bracing  sea-air.     There  is  no  beauty  of  landscape  here,  for 
the  islands  are,  as  Celia  Thaxter  says,  "  mere  heaps  of  tumbling  granite 
in  the  wide  and  lonely  sea;"  but  the  majesty  of  the  ocean  broods  over 
even-thing.     The  founder  of  the  modern  summer-resort  was  Thomas 
1).  Leighton,  an  eccentric  Democratic  gentleman  of  Portsmouth,  who 
banished  himself  to  these  inhospitable  rocks  as  a  result  of  a  mortify- 
ing political  defeat.     Years  ago,  a  number  of  vacation-tourists  visited 
Appledore  and  secured  entertainment  at  the  Leighton  mansion,  which 
was  gradually  enlarged  to  meet  their  needs,  and  linally  replaced  by  the 
great  Appledore  House,  managed  by  Oscar  and  Cedric  Leighton,  the 
sons  of  the  exile. 

The  Shoals  have  always  been  peculiarly  a  resort  for  New-Englanders, 
including  literarians  like  Whittier,  Hutton,  Allen,  Gushing,  Mrs.  Ole 
Hull,  and  Dr.  Peabody;  artists  like  William  M.  Hunt  (who  died  here), 
Appleton  Brown,  and  Childe  Ilassam;  actors  like  Booth,  Barrett,  and 
Kiddle  ;  and  man}'  other  well-known  persons. 

These  nine  sea-beaten  crags  are  bold  and  treeless  mountain-tops 
of  weather-beaten  granite,  seamed  with  dykes  of  lava  and  quart/,  and 
fringed  with  roaring  caverns  and  jagged  cliff's,  forever  swept  by  spray 
and  foam.  There  are  a  few  patches  of  stunted  grass  in  the  hollows 
of  the  rocks,  and  low-lying  beds  of  wild  roses,  elder-berry  blooms,  and 
other  pretty  flowers.  The  views  are  of  amazing  extent  and  grandeur, 
embracing  all  the  coast  from  Cape  Ann  to  Cape  Porpoise,  Portsmouth 
and  Newcastle  to  the  westward  under  the  sunset,  and  the  noble  blue 
heights  of  the  mainland,  from  Po  Hill  at  Amesbury.  and  Agamenticus, 
near  York,  to  the  remoter  crests  of  Monadnock  and  Pawtuckaway,  and 
the  dim  outlines  of  the  White  Mountains.  At  night  yon  can  see  the 
irlimmer  of  nine  li:;ht-houses,  starring  the  long  dark  coast-line.  The 
wind  from  any  quarter  is  cooled  by  the  surrounding  expanses  of  sea. 


87 

These  lonely  isles  were  frequented  by  English  and  Dutch  fishermen 
early  in  the  sixteenth  century  —  as  far  back  as  the  days  of  the  Ar- 
mada. Champlain  reported  them  us  tales  assez  haute s  ;  and  Capt.  John 
Smith  named  them  ''Smith's  Isles."  Subsequently,  the  islands  were 
occupied  by  a  motley  company  of  fishermen,  pirates,  and  seal-hunters, 
who  lived  here  in  great  uproar  and  content,  abusing  the  mainland  con- 
stables with  "opprobrious  languidg,"  and  worse,  and  remaining  defiant 
and  intractable  even  before  the  brass-mounted  black  staff  of  the  high 
sheriff'  of  York.  The  Gorgeana  General  Court  was  compelled  to  re- 
peal an  enactment  against  allowing  women  on  the  islands,  saying  :  '-As 
the  fishermen  of  the  Isles  of  Shoals  will  entertain  womanhood,  they 
have  liberty  to  sit  down  there,  provided  they  shall  not  sell  either  wine, 
beare,  or  liquor."  By  the  year  IfioO  there  were  six  hundred  dwellers 
here,  and  fishermen  from  all  over  the  world  frequented  the  port,  and 
pirates  and  letter-of-marque  men  from  the  Spanish  Main.  When  the 
Revolutionary  War  broke  out,  the  people  were  removed  to  the  main- 


land,  by  order  of  the  State  authorities,  and  this  blow  was  never  recov- 
ered from. 

Appledore  is  a  mile  long,  and  two-thirds  of  a  mile  wide,  made  up  of 
two  high  and  rocky  ridges,  between  which,  in  a  little  valley,  stands  (In- 
famous Appledore  House,  with  its  modern  conveniences  and  luxuries. 
Close  by  i<  the  pretty  cottage  of  Mrs.  Celia  Thaxter.  the  sister  of  the 
Leightons.  and  one  of  the  most  celebrated  of  New-England  authors. 

Star  1-laiul.  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  and  half  a  mile  wide,  wa- 
the  site  of  the  ancient  village  of  Gosport.  the  capital  of  the  littli-  archi- 
pelago. About  the  year  ls?o  it  was  depopulated,  and  the  great  <  iceauic 
Hotel  arose  on  its  lonely  shore.  This  was  burnt,  two  or  three  year- 
liter,  and  replaced  by  another  and  smaller  public  house.  Star  and 
White  Islands  belong  to  New  Hampshire:  the  other  i-lnml-.  to  Maine. 

On  the  highest  point  of  Star  Nland  is  the  Co-port  ehurdi.  built  of 
the  timbers  of  a  wrecked  Spaui-h  iralleon.  in  '(',.<>;  rebuilt  in  1 7i?o ; 
burned  by  the  islanders  in  17'.»0;  and  rebuilt  of  tone  in  l-oo.  C'lo-c 


88 

by  lies  the  bury  ing-ground,  with  its  brown-stone  monuments  to  former 
pastors.  Near  the  great  southern  cliff  which  overlooks  the  ocean  is 
the  triangular  marble  monument  to  Capt.  John  Smith ;  and  farther 
down  opens  the  cavern  in  which  Betty  Moody  concealed  herself  and 
her  children  when  the  Indians  were  making  a  foray  on  the  defenceless 
island.  High  on  the  western  bluff  are  the  remains  of  the  old  fort, 
erected  in  1633  and  disarmed  in  1775  by  a  naval  expedition  from  New- 
buryport,  which  carried  away  the  guns  and  ammunition. 

Smutty  Nose,  nearly  as  large  as  Appledore.  was  named  by  facetious 
mariners,  from  its  long  south-eastern  point  of  black  rock.  Cedar  and 
Malaga  Islands  are  connected  with  Smutty  Nose  at  low  tide.  A  mile 
from  Star  lies  White  Island,  a  picturesque  mass  of  rocks,  upholding  a 
light-house,  and  joined  to  Seavey's  Island  by  a  low-tide  bar.  Farther 
westerly  is  Londoner's;  and  away  in  the  north-east,  two  miles  from 
Appledore,  the  dangerous  black  ledges  of  Duck  Island  furnish  homes 
for  sea-gulls  and  other  aquatic  birds. 

People  who  visit  the  Shoals  should  surely  bring  with  them  Celia 
Thaxter's  charming  little  book.  "  Among  the  Isles  of  Shoals,"  and  per- 
haps, also,  Jenness's  historical  account;  and  read  Lowell's  thrilling 
poem  of  "  Appledore,"  and  Whittier's  ballads  of  the  neighboring  coast. 
Mrs.  Thaxter  spent  many  years  here,  in  summer  and  winter,  and  tells 
of  the  exquisite  flowers,  the  various  sea-birds,  the  old  legends,  the 
wrecks,  and  a  hundred  other  tilings,  in  a  literary  style  of  rare  beauty. 
One  who  has  seen  it  can  never  forget  the  scene  painted  by  "Whittier  : 

"  So,  as  I  lay  upon  Appledore, 

In  the  calm  of  a  closing  summer  clay. 
And  the  broken  linos  of  Hampton  shore 

In  purple  mist  of  clondlund  lay, 
The  Kivermouth  Rocks  their  story  told, 
And  waves  aglow  with  sunset  gold, 
Rising  and  breaking  in  steady  chime, 
Boat  the  rhythm  and  kept  the  time. 

And  the  sunset  paled,  and  warmed  once  more, 

With  a  softer,  tenderer  after-srlow  ; 
In  the  east  was  moonrise,  with  boats  off  shore, 

And  sails  in  the  distance  drifting  slow. 
The  beacon  glimmered  from  Portsmouth  bar, 
The  White  Isle  kindled  its  -/real  red  star; 
And  life  and  death  in  my  old-time  lay 
Mingled  in  peace  like  tlv  ni<;ht  and  clay !  " 


81) 


CHAPTER  XII. 


KITTED  flflD 


KlTTKHV     PoiXT. —  FoilT     Mc'CLAKY. —  Pl-M'PKRRKI.I.S     AND     SPAHHAWKS. 

—  (JKRRISII    ISLAND. — YORK    HARKOR. — YORK    MINSTER. —  NOR- 
WOOD  FARM. — LONG    SANDS. — ('API:   NKDDICK. — BOON    ISLAND. 

—  YORK  BEACH.  —  BALD-HEAD  Ci.in\  —  AGAMKNTICTS. 

BUT  not  even  the  charming  antiquities  and  rare  scenery  of  Ports- 
mouth, nor  yet  its  many  quaint  legends  of  the  days  of  maritime 
enterprise,  must  keep  us  longer  from  the  alluring  beaches  of 
ocean-breasting  Maine.  The  train  rolls  out  on  the  high  bridge 
over  the  eddying  and  troubled  Piscataqua.  and  on  one  side  open  the 
bine  reaches  toward  Dover  Point,  while  on  the  other  the  islands  close 
before  the  mouth  of  the  whirling  stream,  with  the  spire  of  Kittery 
blinking  at  the  tide-swept  wharves  and  colonial  towers  of  Portsmouth. 
Beyond  rise  the  ship-houses  at  the  Kittery  navy-yard,  and  the  great 
Hotel  Wentworth.  out  on  the  hori/.on.  If  \ve  choose  to  leave  the  main 
line  for  a  few  hours,  we  may  board  the  York-Beach  train  at  Ports- 
mouth, and  cross  the  bridge  and  glide  down  through  Kittery  to  the 
very  shore  of  the  sounding  sea.  The  York  Harbor  &  Beach  Railroad 
was  built  in  1SSG-87,  and  is  operated  by  the  Boston  v<:  Maine  Railroad. 
Since  its  completion,  the  old  yellow  stage-coaches  that  used  to  jolt 
passengers  over  the  weary  road  from  Portsmouth  have  fallen  into  des- 
uetude, and  summer-visitors  can  reach  the  delightful  resorts  along  this 
shore  without  hardship  or  fatigue.  It  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
of  railroads,  swinu'in^  around  amonu;  the  low  rocky  hills  and  ancient 
farms  of  Kittery  and  York,  and  alongside  the  bright  waters  of  many  a 
tidal  lagoon  and  salt-water  creek,  and  irivinu;  views  of  the  Piscataqua. 
the  navv-vard.  the  Pepperrcll.  York  Harbor  and  River,  the  elm-embow- 
ered village  of  York,  and  the  magnificent  sweep  of  the  Long  Sands, 
with  leatrues  of  ocean  opening  away  to  the  dim  eastern  liori/.ou. 

Kittery  was  settled  away  hack  in  lU:?:;  by  Walter  Neal.  and  re- 
ceived it-  Kiiii'Ii-h  name  ami  incorporation  eighteen  years  later,  when 
il  held  the  proud  position  of  the  larire-t  town  in  .Maine,  of  who-e 
taxe-  it  paid  nearly  one-half.  Picturesquely  Indented  by  tidal  -nvam-. 
and  abounding:  in  ru^ed  diversity  of  scenery,  and  in'ay  old  farm- 
hon-e-  and  Lrarri-on-hou-e-  of  the  la-t  century.  Kittery  otters  many 
at  t  met  ion-  to  t lie  summer-day  vi-it or.  and  ha-  been  for  yea r-  a  favorite 
resort.  Near  the  depot  at  Kittery  Point  -land-  the  Pepperrell  Hotel,  a 


90 

Summer-house  accommodating  about  one  hundred  guests,  and  from  its 
high  place  overlooking  Portsmouth"  Harbor  and  its  defences,  the  slum- 
berous old  city,  and  the  pleasant  islands  of  the  Piscataqua,  together 
with  leagues  of  picturesque  inland  country.  In  the  same  vicinity  is 
the  more  modern  Hotel  Park  Field,  with  equal  attractions. 

The  old  Kittery -Point  church  was  built  in  1714,  the  frame  having 
been  floated  down  from  Dover;  and  the  plate  belonging  to  it  was  a 
bequest  from  Col.  Pepperrell.  The  oldest  house  here  dates  from  1660, 
when  it  was  reared  by  John  Bray,  whose  daughter  Margery  was  Sir 


William  Pepperrell's  mother.  The  Cutts  mansion  was  erected  by  Lady 
Pepperrell.  in  1  ?">'.»,  and  passed  into  the  Cutts  family  thirty  years  later. 
The  head  of  this  clan,  with  his  l\vo  sons,  died  insane;  and  his  daughter 
Sally  remained  here  until  her  demise,  in  1S74-. 

Near  the  hotel  are  the  ruins  of  Fort  McClary.  founded  in  1700.  and 
long  afterwards  named  in  honor  of  Andrew  McClary.  of  Epsom,  major 
of  the  1st  New-Hampshire  Continental  Kegiment.  and  the  handsomest 
man  in  the  Army  of  the  devolution.  He  was  killed  by  a  cannon-shot 
from  a  British  frigate,  just  after  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill.  The  fort 
was  rebuilt  in  1845.  and  again  during  the  Secession  War.  when  this 


91 

coast  was  expecting  a  visit  from  the  -Queen's  navee."     The  works 
then  begun  were  never  linished,  and  probably  never  will  be. 

The  Pepperrell  mansion  dates  from  about  the  year  IT.'SO,  having 
been  built  by  Col.  William  Pepperrell,  a  wealthy  ship-builder;  and  it 
became  the  home  of  his  son,  Sir  William  Pepperrell,  the  lirst  American 
baronet,  commander  of  the  Provincial  forces  at  the  victorious  siege  of 
Louisburg,  in  174,"»,  and  lieutenant-general  in  the  British  Army.  His 
grandson,  William  Sparhawk,  succeeded  to  his  name  and  estates,  and 
fled  to  England  with  the  Tory  refugees,  upon  which  the  great  domains 
of  the  family,  covering  many  thousands  of  acres,  suffered  confiscation 
by  the  American  government.  The  house  was  formerly  much  larger 
than  it  is  now,  with  a  broad  deer-park  leading  down  to  the  river,  and  a 
noble  avenue  of  trees  extending  to  the  Sparhawk  place.  The  Pepper- 
rell tomb  dates  from  17;5;>,  and  contains  the  remains  of  thirty  persons 
of  this  proud  family,  walled  up  in  a  crypt. 


FORT  Me.  CLARY 


The  Sparhawk  mansion  was  built  over  one  hundred  and  lifty  years 
ago  by  Col.  Nathaniel  Sparhawk.  who  married  Lady  Kli/.abeth  Pep- 
perrell. in  a  dress  of  ••  white  padnsoy  silk,  flowered  with  all  sorts  of 
colors."  The  rooms  were  richly  hung  with  damask,  of  red.  blue,  yel- 
low, and  other  bright,  hues,  each  of  which  gave  its  name  and  key  of 
color  to  the  room.  It  remained  in  the  Sparhawk  family  till  1S1">. 

Gerrish  Island,  two  miles  from  Kittery  Point,  fronts  the  ocean 
fora  long  distance,  a  picturesque  region  of  woods,  farms,  and  beaches, 
joined  to  the  mainland  by  a  bridge,  and  traversed  by  a  nursed,  lonely 
road  commanding  exquisite  sea-views.  ( >n  the  promontory  of  1'oca- 
hontas  Point,  at  the  month  of  the  Piscataqua.  with  rocks  (>n  one  side 
and  a  linn  sandy  beach  on  the  other,  stands  the  Hotel  I'ocahontas.  with 
extensive  grounds,  tishiug  and  boatinir  and  bathing  for  the  active,  and 
illimitable  ocean  air  and  views  for  the  tranquil.  The  island  covers  two 
thousand  acres.  It  was  granted  by  Sir  1-Yrdinaudo  (Jorges  to  his 
brother-in-law.  Arilmr  Chainpernowne.  of  Devon,  who^e  family  bore 
kinship  to  the  (Alberts.  Ualei^rlis.  and  1'lantaiivnets.  The  name  of 


Dartington,  pertaining  to  the  family  estate  in  England,  was  given  to 
the  island;  and  Francis,  the  son  of  the  grantee,  came  over  to  assume 
its  government,  in  1(536.  when  lie  had  reached  the  age  of  twenty-four. 
For  over  lift}'  years  this  worthy  gentleman  dwelt  here,  serving  as 
royal  councillor  and  commissioner  •  and,  dying  childless,  left  the  do- 
main to  his  wife's  family,  the  Cuttses.  The  great  cairn  of  stones  that 
.marks  his  grave  is  two  miles  from  the  Pocahontas.  In  Albee's  noble 
words  : 

"  Here  rest  the  bonea  of  Francis  Champernowne; 

The  blazonry  of  Norman  kings  he  bore ; 
His  fathers  builded  many  a  tower  and  town, 

And  after  Senlac  England's  lords.    Now  o'er 
His  island  cairn  the  lonesome  forests  frown, 

And  stiillffm  seas  beat  the  untrodden  shore." 

York  Harbor  opens  near  the  month  of  York  River,  where  the 
singular  rocky  peninsula  of  Stage  Xeck  (or  Fort  Head)  forces  the 
stream  to  bend  away  to  the  southward,  just  before  sweeping  into  the 
sea.  Upon  this  Xahant-like  promontory  stands  the  great  Marshall 
House,  with  the  ocean  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  beautiful 
winding  river,  flowing  between  pale-green  meadows  and  darker  for- 
ests, fertile  farms  and  ruined  wharves.  On  the  outer  side  of  the 
isthmus  extends  the  beach  of  Short  Sands,  where  the  perfection  of 
surf-bathing  may  be  enjoyed. 

The  shipping  which  in  remote  days  made  York  almost  a  rival  of 
Boston  and  Salem  has  vanished  from  the  bay.  and  is  replaced  in  sum- 
mer by  fleets  of  beautiful  yachts,  sailing  in  from  distant  metropolitan 
harbors.  The  visitors,  in  the  intervals  of  tennis  and  driving  and  bath- 
ing, make  much  of  the  boating  and  fishing  privileges,  the  blue  sea- 
reaches  on  the  outside,  or  the  lovely  winding  courses  of  the  York 
River,  penetrating  for  "miles  into  the  peaceful  country. 

Around  the  north  side  of  the  harbor  extends  a  line  of  rocky  heights, 
now  for  the  most  part  occupied  by  villas,  whose  happy  occupants  can 
look  down  on  a  panorama  of  surpassing  beauty.  On  this  side,  also,  are 
the  minor  hotels. —  the  Harmon,  (ioodwin.  and  York-Harbor. —  each 
with  its  constituency  of  admirers,  returning  every  season  to  enjoy  the 
bland  salt  air  of  this  favored  region.  On  the  roads  you  may  see 
phaeton<.  dog-carts,  pony-carriages,  and  high-stepping  horses,  with 
much  bravery  of  costumes  and  charm  of  pretty  women. 

There  is  a  peculiar  splendor  of  color  at  York,  in  the  long  green 
pastures  and  meadows,  divided  by  gray  stone  walls,  masses  of  wild 
roses  and  golden-rod,  and  the  glorious  livinir  blue  of  sea  and  sky. 

Only  a  mile  from  the  Long  Sands,  buried  under  the  umbrageous 
shelter  of  main"  tree>.  slumbers  the  historic  hamlet  of  York,  with  its 
half-do/.eii  shops  and  a  somnolent  post-oltice.  The  little  white  village 
church,  which  facetious  summer-voyagers  have  named  "York  Minster," 
has  now  passed  its  hundred  and  liftieth  year  of  service.  At  the  ends 


VOKK    HAIUJOU. 


94 

of  the  village  are  magnificent  rows  of  elm-trees,  many  of  which  were 
set  out  by  Judge  Sewall  in  the  last  century.  Among  the  fine  old  colo- 
nial houses,  white  and  green,  with  enrailed  roofs  and  huge  chimneys, 
are  those  formerly  occupied  by  Judge  David  Sewall  and  the  gay  and 
gallant  Paul  Langdon.  Here  and  there,  too,  appear  the  mossy  gambrel- 
roofs  of  still  older  houses. 

The  jail  was  built  in  1053,  from  the  proceeds  of  a  county  tax,  and 
still  stands  on  its  little  knoll  over  the  village-street,  partly  of  heavy 
masonry,  with  a  dark  dungeon  shut  in  by  a  three-feet  thickness  of 
reeking  stone  walls,  and  with  a  door  six  inches  thick. 

The  records  of  old  York  are  full  of  fascination  for  the  mousing 
antiquary  or  the  cultivated  summer-traveller.  Its  founder  was  Sir 
Ferdinando  Gorges,  of  Somersetshire,  one  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  stout- 
hearted naval  captains  in  the  Armada  days,  and  also  an  early  grantee 
of  New  England,  and  lord-proprietary  of  the  province  of  Maine.  He 
dispatched  various  colonies  to  his  vast  empty  empire,  sending  also  his 
son  and  his  nephew  to  administer  it.  On  the  site  of  York  he  founded 
the  capital  of  the  new  principality,  incorporated  as  a  city,  and  bearing, 
in  his  honor,  the  name  of  Gorgeana.  Years  afterwards,  when  their 
projects  for  agriculture  had  failed,  and  the  Indians  had  driven  in  or 
massacred  their  outer  settlements,  the  gray  old  Somerset  knight  died, 
and  his  yeomen  of  Maine,  ignored  by  the  Gorges  heirs,  joined  the 
Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts.  The  Bay  Province  revoked  the  city 
charter,  and  gave  the  place  "  the  short  and  snappish  name  of  York," 
according  to  tradition  because  the  psalm-tune  of  York  was  the  favorite 
melody  in  the  village  meetings. 

In  the  winter  of  1G92,  three  hundred  Indians  and  Frenchmen 
marched  down  from  Canada  on  snow-shoes  and  attacked  York  by 
night,  slaying  seventy-five  of  its  people  and  leading  one  hundred  into 
captivity.  Thenceforth  for  more  than  half  a  century  the  town  laid 
in  a  state  of  siege,  frequently  assailed  by  the  blood-thirsty  enemy,  but 
always  holding  its  own  bravely.  Four  or  five  miles  up  the  York  River 
two  of  the  old  garrison-houses  are  still  standing,  built  of  heavy  hewn 
timbers,  and  witli  projecting  upper  stories.  The  inhabitants  lived  in 
great  peace  after  the  Conquest  of  Canada. 

A  Ion-;  the  cool  sequester'd  vale  of  life 
They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way." 

When  the  railroad  sought  to  build  its  line  here,  they  combatted  the 
scheme  valiantly,  saving:  "  It  will  poison  the  land  for  a  mile  each  side 
of  it;"  and  so  the  company  was  compelled  to  have  its  charter  amended, 
and  laid  the  tracks  miles  away  in  the  woods  to  the  westward. 

From  the  Short  Sands,  a  coast  of  sharp  and  angular  rocks,  of  rich 
deep  colors,  projects  seaward,  and  bends  around  to  the  Long  Sands, 
which  are  distant  about  half  a  league  by  the  new  road  over  the  heights. 
This  is  the  famous  region  of  Norwood  Farm,  with  Whiting's, 


Baker's,  and  Norwood's  large  boarding-houses,  and  the  pleasant  sum- 
mer-cottages of  John  C.  Hopes,  Francis  A.  Peters,  Mrs.  Charles  Dwight, 
Dr.  F.  1).  Stackpolc,  and  Mrs.  Kice,  of  Boston,  Col.  John  I).  Washbiirn, 
of  Worcester,  the  Kev.  Joseph  May  and  the  Williams  iamily,  of  Phila- 
delphia, and  other  well-known  people.  The  views  from  this  high  pro- 
montory include  the  openings  of  York  Harbor,  Cape  Neddick  and  the 
Nubble,  Boon  Island  and  the  Shoals,  and  a  vast  area  of  inland  country, 
stretching  away  toward  the  sunset.  Near  the  crest  is  the  pretty  Epis- 
copal chapel  of  St.  George's-by-the-Sea,  with  its  rich  memorial  window, 
erected  by  and  for  the  summer  population  of  this  most  aristocratic 
part  of  the  York  coast. 

The  Long  Sands  form  one  of  the  finest  of  American  beaches,  a 
mile  and  a  half  long,  and  of  hard  gray  sand,  gently  sloping  to  the  surf. 
On  one  side  rise  the  wooded  highlands  of  Norwood  Farm,  with  its 


EAIU.Y    MORNING— TUB    NIT.IH.K,  YOIIK    KHAIII. 

prominent  cottages:  on  the  oilier  side  Cape  Neddick  projects  into  the 
sea,  with  the  Nubble  at  its  end;  and  near  the  middle  of  the  beach  is  a 
group  of  wave-washed  ledges.  The  Harrison  House  and  Hotel  l.artlett 
stand  at  the  smith  end  of  the  strand,  not  far  from  Roaring  Rock,  ami 
within  a  mile  of  old  York  village.  About  half-way  up  is  (irant's  Sea 
Cottage,  near  Waldemcre.  the  villa  of  Mrs.  Allan  Mauvel.  of  Minnesota  : 
and  a  little  way  beyond  is  the  Donnell  House.  Thence  for  a  mile  «r  -o 
the  beach  is  closely  lined  witli  small  cottages,  bordering  the  highway. 
Cape  Noddick  is  a  noble  crairiry  promontory,  faced  with  hiirh 
dill's  and  surf-whitened  ledges,  and  sprayed  all  over  with  \\ild  roses. 
white  and  yellow  dairies,  and  scarlet  lilies.  Two  hundred  feet  oil'  its 
outer  point  i-  the  lone  rock  called  the  Nubble,  \\itli  a  modern  light- 
house and  light-keeper's  cottage,  and  many  a  piTi'uni'-d  bed  of  mignon- 
ette in  the  hollows  of  the  ledges.  Thousand-  of  people  vi-it  th.-  lidit 


96 

every  summer,  being  ferried  across  by  the  light-keeper,  and  bring  away 
mementos, —  painted  stones,  photographs,  and  wings  and  breasts  of 
strange  sea-birds.  There  is  a  tradition  that  old  Capt.  Bowden  once 
sailed  the  Ploughshare  through  the  Gut  of  the  Nubble,  to  save  a  tide 
into  Cape-Neddick  Harbor.  At  low  tide,  one  can  walk  dry-shod  from 
the  cape  to  the  light-house,  where,  an  hour  or  two  later,  the  salty  tides 
rush  and  roar  through  the  rocky  passage. 

Far  out  at  sea,  a  good  three  leagues  as  the  crow  flies,  lies  Boon 
Island,  its  tall  granite  light-house  towering  to  the  height  of  a  hundred 
and  thirty-three  feet,  and  bearing  a  lens  which  cost  forty  thousand 
dollars.  There  are  dark  traditions  connected  with  this  lonely  islet, 
such  as  that  of  the  Xottinyham  Galley,  wrecked  here  a  century  and  a 
half  ago,  when  the  survivors  of  its  crew  turned  cannibals  to  avoid 


UNION   BLUFF,  YOKK. 

starvation.     This  is  the  scene  of  Celia  Thaxter's  poem,  "The  Watch  of 
Boon  Island  : " 

"  Afar  and  cold  on  the  horizon's  rim 

Loomed  the  tall  light-house,  like  a  ghostly  sign; 
They  sighed  not  as  the  shore  behind  grew  dim, 
A  rose  of  joy  they  bore  across  the  brine. 


nt  its  warnings  wide, 


Aloft  the  liaht-house 


Fed  by  their  faithful  hands,  and  ships  in  sight 


With  joy  beheld  it,  and  on  land  men  cried, 


Look,  clear  and  steady  burns  Boon-Island  light! 


And,  while  they  trimmed  the  lamp  with  busy  hands, 

'  Shine  far  and  through  the  dark,  sweet  light,'  they  cried; 

'  Bring  safely  back  the  sailors  from  all  lauds 

To  waiting  loye,  —  wife,  mother,  sister,  bride  !  '  " 

The  railway  ends  at  York-Beach  station,  which  is  close  to  the  land- 
ward end  of  Cape  Neddick,  and  near  Short  Beach,  a  half-embayed  strip 


97 


98 

of  sanely  strand  which  gives  admirable  opportunities  for  sea-bathing. 
Facing  on  the  sea,  along  the  line  of  Short  Beach,  are  several  modern 
hotels, —  the  Ocean  House,  Rockaway,  and  Atlantic. 

Short  Beach  fronts  toward  the  north-east  and  receives  the  full 


tumbling  of  the  Atlantic,  when  a  seaward  gale  is  blowing.  ( >n  one 
side  extends  the  summer-village  of  I'nion  IJliitl's.  founded  in  is 71.  and 
now  dowered  with  three  or  four  hotels  and  do/.ens  of  >imple  cottages. 
On  the  other  side  is  the  hamlet  of  Concordville,  mainly  populated  by 


00 

citizens  of  Concord;  and  on  the  southern  shore  of  the  cape  stand  the 
plain  summer-cottages  of  Dover  Bind'. 

The  vicinity  of  Short  Beach  is  famous  for  its  good  fishing. —  rock- 
cod,  sea-perch,  and  flounders  from  the  shore-ledges,  eels  at  the  Inlet, 
and,  in  deep  waters  outside,  cod.  halibut,  mackerel,  hake,  and  pollock. 
Dories  and  sail-boats  and  larger  vessels  may  be  obtained  here  for 
longer  or  shorter  voyages,  or  for  the  run  to  Boon  Island,  or  York 
Harbor,  or  the  Shoals,  or  over  to  Kennebunkport,  which  lies  in  sight 
across  the  broad  Wells  Bay.  It  is  but  a  few  miles  by  road  to  the 
quaint  little  hamlet  and  harbor  of  Cape  Neddick. 

Bald-Head  Cliff,  about  four  miles  up  the  coast,  is  one  of  the 
most  amazing  episodes  of  rocky  scenery  on  our  Atlantic  sea-board. 
For  a  distance  of  six  hundred  feet  it  fronts  the  waves  with  pro- 
digious escarpments  of  rock,  broken  into  a  great,  variety  of  shapes 
by  the  action  of  the  sea,  and  banded  continually  by  white  lines  of 
breakers.  From  the  Cliff  House  there  is  an  extensive  panorama,  in- 
cluding the  long  coast  from  the  Isles  of  Shoals  and  Cape  Neddick 
to  Ogunquit  Beach  and  Wells  Beach  and  the  distant  Cape  Arundel. 

It  lias  been  said  that  the  cliffis  gneiss;  but  there  are  many  intrusive 
veins  of  trap  and  quartz,  oddly  veininir  the  ledges.  From  the  high 
overhanging  rock  called  the  Pulpit,  you  may  gain  an  impressive'  down- 
ward view  of  the  thunderous  surges,  hurling  themselves  against  the 
huge  adamantine  clitt's. 

Six  or  seven  miles  from  Long  Sands,  away  up  inland,  rises  the 
famous  Mount  Agamenticus.  a  most  prominent  landmark  over  scores 
of  leagues  of  the  New-Kngland  coast.  It  reaches  the  heiirht  of  six 
hundred  and  eighty  feet,  and  may  be  ascended  without  anv  serious 
dilliculty:  but  the  interesting  features  of  the  view  —  the  sea  and  the 
White  Mountains  —  are  too  distant  for  impressive  effect.  Around  the 
mountain  extend  great  forests,  amid  which  •rlinuners  the  league-loni: 
surface  of  Chase's  Pond.  There  is  a  st  ran  ire  old  tradition  that  on  this 
lordly  peak  were  buried  the  remains  of  the  inv-teriou-  St.  .\-pin<|iiid. 
a  famous  chief  of  the  Pawtucket  tribe  of  Indians,  born  in  York  in  May. 
l.'iss.  I'nder  the  preachinir  of  -John  Kliot  he  became  converted,  and 
layinir  aside  his  tomahawk  and  all  the  other  implement-  of  -avairery. 
he  traversed  the  forests  ••from  the  Atlantic  to  the  ('alil'oniia  sea." 
pointinir  out  to  the  red  men  the  way  to  the  happy  huntinir-irrounds  and 
the  home  of  the  (iivat  Spirit.  A«-pinquid  wa-  an  object  of  \eiieration 
wherever  lie  went.  In  lil-l'  he  died,  at  the  ripe  a  ire  of  :M  year-,  and 
\\a-  buried  with  irivat  pomp  <>u  I  lie  -miimii  of  Mount  Airament  ieii-. 
St.  A-pinqiiid's  tomb-lone  \\a-  to  be  -eeii  up  to  ]  1  ^» .  and  in-cribeil  on 
it  in  Indian  words  was  the  following  couplet  : 


100 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


WEIiltS  flfll) 


NORTH     BERWICK.  —  THE     EASTERX    AND    WESTERX    DIVISIONS.  — 
WELLS.  —  OGUXQUIT.  —  THE    ELMS.  —  KENXEBUXK. 

HFTER  this   pleasant  digression  down  the   shores   of  York  and 
Kittery,  we  may  return  to  the  Portsmouth  station,  and  resume 
our  journey  to  the  cool  north.     The  route  lies  across  the  rural 
plains  and  through  the  forests  of  Kittery  and  York,  in  a  pleasant 
and  picturesque  but  thinly-peopled  country.     At  Conway  Junction,  the 
people  who  are  bound  for  Lake  "Winnepesaukee  and  the  White  Moun- 
tains, for  Conway  and  Jackson  and  the  Glen  House,  leave  our  sea-shore 
train,  and  are  borne  off  on  the  wings  of  the  mountain-express.     Their 
route  is  described  in  our  companion-book  devoted  to  the  Mountains. 
A  few  miles  farther  on  is  North  Berwick,  a  junction-point  of  consider- 
able importance.       n 

The  two  chief  divisions  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  cross  each 
other  at  North  Berwick,  and  the  Eastern  Division  from  this  point 
northward  becomes  in  reality  the  western  route,  lying  farther  inland 
than  the  other.  In  order  to  follow  as  closely  as  possible  this  famous 
coast,  we  may  take  one  of  the  trains  of  the  so-called  Western  Division. 
which  brings  us  much  nearer  to  Wells,  Kennebunkport,  Old  Orchard, 
Scarborough.  Pine  Point,  and  the  other  resorts  in  this  direction.  Or 
if  it  is  desired  to  reach  these  points  from  Boston  without  change. 
omitting  the  glimpses  of  the  Massachusetts  and  New-Hampshire  coasts 
hereinbefore  alluded  to.  we  may  take  the  Western-Division  train  at  the 
Haymarket-Square  station,  in  Boston,  and  run  through  Maiden  and 
Melrose  and  Waketield.  to  the  great  mills  at  Lawrence,  and  down  the 
shore  of  the  Merrimac  to  Bradford  and  Haverhill,  past  the  venerable 
towers  of  Exeter  and  the  busy  factories  of  Dover  and  Salmon  Falls. 
and  so  reach  the  junction-point  at  North  Berwick.  Not  far  from  this 
station  we  come  in  sight  of  the  joyous  blue  sea,  beyond  the  fields  and 
forests  of  Wells. 

Wells,  the  ancient  Indian  domain  of  Webhannet  (whose  name  is 
perpetuated  in  one  of  its  little  rivers),  received  its  present  name  about 
the  year  1040.  in  memory  of  an  ancient  cathedral-town  of  England. 
The  manor  of  Deputy-Governor  Gorges  was  established  here;  and  a 
part  of  it  passed  into  the  possession  of  the  famous  Rev.  John  Wheel- 
wright. whom  Massachusetts  had  cast  out  of  her  bounds  as  a  schis- 


101 

rnatic  and  a  heretic.  During  the  long  Indian  wars,  the  town  suffered 
incredible  things,  and  all  its  men  were  under  arms.  The  long-drawn 
street  of  Wells  village  lies  on  the  upland  plain,  between  the  railroad 
and  the  marshes  that  border  the  sea,  and  its  white  colonial  houses 
command  views  far  out  to  the  level  blue  horizon.  A  mile  and  a  half 
from  the  village,  by  the  road,  is  Wells  Beach,  a  long  sandy  strand,  with 
one  or  two  hotels,  and  a  sea-view  extending  from  Boon  Island  around 
to  Cape  Porpoise.  Many  years  ago,  this  was  one  of  the  most  popular 
resorts  on  the  coast,  but  its  large  hotels, —  the  Island-Ledge  and  the 
Atlantic,  —  burned  down,  and  the  beach  has  never  recovered  its  lost 
prestige.  The  town  of  Wells  has  eleven  miles  of  ocean-coast,  the 
greater  part  of  which  is  in  beaches  of  flue  hard  sand. 

Five  miles  south  of  Wells  the  quaint  hamlet  of  Ogunquit  nestles 
on  the  shore  of  the  little  haven  where  the  Ogunquit  Eiver  enters  the 
sea,  between  Israel's  Head  and  Almet  Hill.  The  people  here  live  by  the 


deep-sea  and  shore  fisheries,  sending  their  product  in  carts  throughout 
a  circuit  of  thirty  miles  inland.  There  are  two  or  three  small  hotels 
(Maxwell,  Ogunquit.  etc.),  visited  in  summer  by  people  who  enjoy  the 
lonely  contiguous  beaches.  It  is  but  a  few  miles  hence  to  the  great 
clusters  of  hotels  on  York  Beach,  passing  by  the  way  of  Bald-Head 
Cliti' and  Cape  Xeddick.  and  not  far  from  the  noble  hill  of  Agamenlicus. 

As  the  train  traverses  the  plateau  of  Wells,  the  great  sea  is  visible 
for  miles,  Hashing  like  a  broad  silver  shield  at  moriiinir,  or  toward 
evening  a  plain  of  deep  sapphire,  under  the  purpling  eastern  hori/.on. 
The  antique  square  houses  of  Wells  extend  along  the  edu'e  of  the 
plateau,  and  farther  out  are  projecting  capes  and  beaches,  breaking 
into  the  ocean-tides.  Beyond  Wells  is  the  handsome  station  at  The 
Elms  (perhaps  the  future  terminus  of  the  York-Beach  liailroad;. 

A  short  run  through  the  woods  leads  to  the  station  of  Keimebunk. 
surrounded  by  pretty  tlower-beds ;  and  oil'  to  the  left  rises  the  spire  of 


102 

Kcnnebunk,  a  bright  little  manufacturing-village,  famous  for  its  noble 
elms  and  pleasant  homes,  in  one  of  the  most  salubrious  localities  in  all 
New  England.  In  the  old  days,  the  people  were  obliged  to  dwell  in 
strongly  fortified  garrisons,  and  suffered  many  an  attack  from  Wawa 
and  his  brave  Pequawket  Indians.  Later,  they  embarked  in  the  manu- 
factures of  iron  and  salt,  along  the  river,  and  in  maritime  commerce. 
Twenty-five  vessels  from  this  town  were  captured  by  the  French  about 
the  close  of  the  last  century,  but  the  United-States  Government  has 
never  reimbursed  their  owners.  Hugh  McCulloch,  Secretary  of  the 
Treasury  from  1SG5  to  18G9,  was  a  native  of  Keimebmik. 


KAI.1>    UK  AD    CLIKF,    OliUNQUIT. 


108 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


AN  AXCIKXT  MARITIME  VILLAGE. —  A  RIVKU  FOU  PLEASURE-BOATING. 

—  KKN.NKnrxK  BKACH.  —  CAPK  POKPOISK. 

THE  Kcnncbunkport  Branch  runs  from  the  station  of  Kenm'bunk 
to  tin-  Port,  four  and  a  half  miles,  passing  the  stations  of  Par- 
sons. Kennebunk  Beach,  and  (irove  Station,  and  ending  at  the 
edicc  of  tin1  Kenncbunk  River,  not  far  above  its  mouth,  and  near 
the  site  of  the  ship-yards  whence  the  famous  clippers  Omni.  Kiinj, 
Oct'ini  (Juct')i,  Jii-jiiihUf.  ]!ei/il>r<'ni<~!t,  and  Xonftntttinwru  launched.  The 
railroad  was  built  in  lsx:>,  since  which  time  has  occurred  the  marvel- 
lous development  of  this  shore  as  a  summer-re-sort.  The  rocky  coast 
on  the  Arundel  side  of  the  river.  Avith  its  noble  surf,  is  complemented 
by  IOIILT  beaches  of  sand  on  the  other  side,  stretching  a\vay  to  the 
Mousani:  and  the  lovely  little  river  opening  between,  with  its  famous 
boating-  and  the  venerable  village,  rich  in  architecture  of  the  (ieor^ian 
era,  all'ord  many  attractions  to  summer-visitors.  The  river  received 
from  its  ancient  Indian  lords  the  name  of  Kouicbuiik,  which  in  their 
lanmiaire  meant  -The  Place  of  Smooth  \Vati-r."  Its  mouth  lies  be- 
tween two  jetties  of  ii'ranile  blocks,  erected  by  the  1'llited  States  aliollt 
half  a  century  a^o.  ( >n  the  north  >ide  is  Cape  Arundel.  the  site  of  tin- 
chief  hotels;  and  on  the  south  side  of  the  river  begins  a  line  of  sandy 
beaches,  forming  a  part  of  the  shore  of  AVells  Bay.  Nearly  all  the 
eoa-t  mi  both  -ide-  has  been  aeiiiiired  by  the  Boston  and  Keimebunk- 
pnrt  Sea--hore  ('onipanv.  and  these  M-VCII  hundred  aeres  of  beaches, 
cove--,  and  headland-;  are  divided  into  lots,  ready  for  purchasers. 

The  pleasant  old  village  IT--IS  alonu'  the  river,  only  a  mile  above  its 
m«uth.  \\  heiv  the  -hip-yards  n-ed  to  be.  ami  the  pier-  for  the  accom- 
niodatiou  of  tin-  -hippini:'  \\hieh  brought  in  snirar.  mola- — es.  rum.  and 
other  \\'e-t-Indian  and  far-foreign  comnn>dities  foj-  half  of  Maine.  The 
cu-toin-hou-e  -till  remain-,  but  it-  receipt-  have  -hninkeii  ama/.inu'ly 
-iuee  the  lime  of  it-  e-t  ;il  il  i  -hi  neiit .  in  tin-  remote  year  l-oo.  '['he  de- 
mure little  biiildini:'  -land-  back  by  the  Methodi-t  Church,  a  monument 
of  the  T\rian  pa-t.  \\heii  -;iilor-  from  thi-  port  followed  1'lue  water  all 

over  the  li'Iobe.       'I'lle  river   for  -e\'eral   miles  ;|boVe   die    Port    all'ord-  one 

of  the  be-t  boatiiiir-places  iii  Xe\v  1-ji^Iaiid.  a  narrow  and  \\indini:' 
-I  ream,  bordered  by  moderateh  liiuli  l>ank-.  n'reeii  lield-.  and  -inilinir 
fai'm-.  \\hile  here  and  there  beautiful  bit-  of  midland  come  do\su  to 


the  water's  edge.  One  of  the  chief  amusements  of  visitors  at  the  Port 
is  rowing  on  this  sylvan  stream,  an  exercise  which  is  made  easy  by 
favoring  tides,  and  commends  itself  especially  to  ladies.  At  times 
there  are  carnival  processions  on  the  river,  with  illuminated  boats, 
banners,  and  fire-works,  and  an  almost  Venetian  splendor  of  decoration. 
The  floral  reviews,  also,  of  the  summer  are  full  of  beauty,  when  the 
canoes  and  dories  and  other  boats  drift  along  the  stream,  decked  with 
festoons  of  wild  flowers  from  the  adjacent  fields  and  forests,  their 
crews  dressed  in  colors  to  match  their  floral  environments.  When 
Capt.  Weymouth  sailed  into  this  river,  in  1G05,  on  the  voyage  of  dis- 
covery initiated  by  Lord  Arundel  of  Warclour,  or  when  the  adventur- 
ous Capt.  John  Smith  glided  up  its  deserted  reaches  nine  years  later, 
the  graceful  bark  canoes  of  the  Indians  were  its  only  shipping,  and 
their  rude  wigwams  afforded  the  only  habitations.  The  favorite  ex- 
cursion is  to  go  up  and  come  back  with  the  tide,  and  from  these  peace- 
ful voyagers  the  sound  of  banjos  is  heard,  and  the  voices  of  merry 
singers. 

On  the  neighboring  roads  you  may  ride  to  the  Mousam-River  Falls ; 
or  up  to  the  Shaker  community  at  Alfred ;  or  to  the  ancient  trees  of 
the  now  desolate  camp-grounds ;  or  to  tranquil  old  Kennebunk ;  or 
along  the  rock}'  shore  of  Cape  Arundel  to  Cape  Porpoise,  on  one  side, 
or  down  the  sands  to  Lord's  Point  and  Hart's  Beach,  on  the  other;  or 
.to  the  cities  of  Biddeford  and  Saco.  on  the  north.  The  roads  are  not 
the.  best,  but  they  are  traversed  continually  by  wagonettes  and  village 
carts  and  buckboards,  filled  with  cheery  excursionists. 

"  A  furlong  or  more  away  to  the  south, 

On  the  bar  beyond  the  huge  sea-walls 
That  keep  the  channel  and  guard  its  mouth, 

The  high,  curved  billow  whitens  and  falls; 
And  the  racing  tides  through  the  granite  gate, 
On  their  wild  errands  that  will  not  wait, 
Forever,  unresting,  to  and  fro, 
Course  with  impetuous  ebb  and  flow." 

—  John   Toicnsend  Trowbridge. 

The  Parker  House  is  at  the  edge  of  the  village,  fronting  on  the 
quaint  old  Congregational  Church,  and  on  the  river,  up  near  the  aban- 
doned ship-yards.  On  the  seaward  edge  of  the  village  rises  a  great  old 
mansion  built  in  1*10.  with  forty  rooms,  each  with  an  open  fire-place, 
and  rare  old  interior  fittings.  It  is  occupied  in  summer  by  Pres.  C.  P. 
Clark,  of  the  New  York,  Xew  Haven  &  Hartford  Railroad.  Approach- 
ing Cape  Arundel,  along  the  course  of  the  river,  we  come  to  the  modern 
stone  villa  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Edward  L.  Clark,  of  Xc\v  York,  back  of 
which,  and  higher  up.  is  the  handsome  mansion  of  the  Talbots,  of 
Massachusetts.  Nearer  the  stream  is  a  group  of  quaint  neo-colonial 
cottages.  On  the  Clark  estate  stands  Seaward  Cottage,  a  pleasant  new 
summer  boarding-house:  and  beyond  arc  the  Nonantum  and  Highland 
Houses.  A  little  way  farther  out  rises  the  highland  of  Cape  Arundel, 


105 


106 

with  the  great  Ocean-Bluff  Hotel,  the  Cliff,  Bickford,  Arundel,  and 
other  houses  for  public  entertainment,  and  the  ancient  and  deserted 
Jerry-Smith  farm-house,  for  scores  of  years  the  only  building  on  the 
cape.  Here  also  is  Arundel  Hall,  the  casino  for  concerts,  theatricals, 
and  dancing,  on  summer  evenings  the  centre  of  all  this  joyous  colony. 
Sea-blown  willows  and  juniper,  wild  roses  and  golden-rod,  bayberries 
and  blackberries,  wave  over  the  sandy  hill ;  and  here  and  there  are 
pleasant  little  arbors,  whence  you  may  enjoy  the  vast  marine  panorama 
to  the  southward, — Wells  Beach,  Bald-Head  Cliff,  Ogunquit,  Cape  Ned- 
dick,  and  the  Nubble,  with  the  round  swell  of  Agamenticus,  and  the 
beautiful  Bonnybeag  Hills,  in  Sanford.  The  glorious  eastward  view, 
out  to  sea,  is  diversified  only  by  the  white  sails  of  shipping  low  .down 
on  the  horizon,  the  changing  colors  of  the  waters,  the  varying  cloud- 
architecture.  On  the  upper  part  of  the  cape,  opposite  the  Spouting 
Rock,  rises  the  handsome  cottage  of  J.  T.  Trowbridge,  the  author.  On 
and  near  the  bluff  are  the  attractive  summer-cottages  of  the  Bancrofts, 
Spragues.  Agncws,  Nobles,  Paines,  Dexters,  and  other  metropolitan 
families.  Out  on  the  extreme  point,  near  the  scanty  ruins  of  the  fort 
which  was  built  to  protect  the  harbor  in  1812,  is  the  new  Episcopal 
chapel,  a  picturesque  edifice  of  sea-beaten  rock,  with  rich  stained  win- 
dows, rising  on  the  very  edge  of  the  sea. 

In  riding  across  Sunset  Pasture  by  the  old  stage-road,  you  may  get 
a  fine  view  of  a  blue  mountain-wall  far  away  in  the  dim  north-west, 
and  this  (they  tell  you)  is  the  Presidential  Range  of  the  White  Moun- 
tains. Down  on  the  shore,  beyond  battalions  of  red  lilies  and  ox-eyed 
daisies  and  thickets  of  spruce  and  fir,  opens  the  famous  Blowing  Cave, 
where  the  surf  rolls  in  furiously,  only  to  be  thrown  out  again  in  sheets 
and  sprays  of  milk}*  whiteness.  Off  shore  lies  the  low  and  rock- 
bound  Cedar  Point,  boldly  facing  the  stress  of  the  waves;  and  away  to 
the  northward  gleams  the  light-house  of  Cape  Porpoise. 

On  the  lower  shore,  westward  of  the  river's  mouth,  stretches  a  line 
of  beautiful  sandy  beaches,  broken  here  and  there  by  little  points,  and 
swept  by  resounding  surf.  Most  of  the  people  from  the  great  hotels 
and  cot  t  ayes  on  the  Port  side  come  hither  when  they  want  surf-bath- 
ing, and  there  is  a  ferryman  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  who  finds  a  large 
business  in  carrying  passengers  across  from  the  blurt'  to  the  bathing- 
beach.  In  driving  down  from  the  village,  we  pass  the  seventeenth- 
century  garrison-house  of  the  Mitchells,  now  owned,  with  its  extensive 
farm,  by  Mr.  John  C.  Mitchell,  of  Boston.  Lord's  Point,  covered  with 
cottages,  lies  in  this  direction:  and  to  the  seaward  from  Parson>  sta- 
tion is  the  pleasant  cottage-colony  of  Hart's  Beach,  owned  and  devel- 
oped by  the  Parsons  family,  natives  of  this  region,  and  successful 
railroad  magnates  in  New  York. 

A  mile  or  so  eastward  of  the  river  is  Vaughn's  Island,  high  and 
rocky,  and  covering  a  hundred  acres,  with  cold  springs,  groves  of  oaks, 
and  a  louir  sea-front.  This  domain  has  been  acquired  by  a  syndicate, 
to  be  developed  as  a  summer-resort,  with  a  hotel  and  cottaires. 


107 


108 

Cape  Porpoise,  something  over  two  miles  from  Kennebunkport,  is 
a  queer  old  fishing-port,  with  a  light-house  off  its  harbor,  and  a  few 
summer  boarding-houses, — the  Langsford,  Shiloh,  and  others, — where 
the  usual  seaside  amusements  are  practicable,  amid  quiet  surroundings. 
Beyond  this  haven  of  fishermen,  you  may  follow  the  trend  of  the  coast 
to  Goose  Rocks  and  Fortune's  Rocks. 

"  Just  back  from  a  beach  of  Baud  and  shells, 

And  shingle  the  tides  leave  oozy  and  clank, 

Summer  and  winter  the  old  man  dwells 

In  his  low  brown  house  on  the  river-bank. 

Tempest  and  sea-fog  sweep  the  hoar 

And  wrinkled  sand-drifts  round  his  door, 

Where  often  I  see  him  sit,  as  gray 

And  weather-beaten  and  lonely  as  they. 

Coarse  grasses  wave  on  the  arid  swells 

In  the  wind;  and  two  dwarf  poplar-trees 
Seem  hung  all  over  with  silver  bells 

That  tinkle  and  twinkle  in  sun  and  breeze. 
All  else  is  desolate  sand  and  stone  : 
And  here  the  old  lobsterman  lives  alone  : 
Nor  other  companionship  has  he 
But  to  sit  in  his  house  and  gaze  at  the  sea. 

I  see  him  silently  pushing  out 

On  the  broad,  bright  gleam,  at  break  of  day  ; 

*  *  *  * 

And  watch  his  lessening  dory  toss 
On  the  purple  crests  as  he  pulls  across, 
Round  reefs  where  silvery  surges  leap, 
And  meets  the  dawn  on  the  rosy  deep. 

His  soul,  is  it  open  to  sea  and  sky? 

His  spirit,  alive  to  sound  and  sight? 
AVhat  wondrous  tints  on  the  water  lie,  — 

Wild,  wavering,  liquid  realm  of  light! 
Between  two  glories  looms  the  shape 
Of  yon  wood-crested,  cool  green  cape, 
Sloping  all  round  to  foam-laced  ledge, 
And  cavern  and  cove,  at  the  bright  sea's  edge." 


109 


110 


CHAPTER   XV. 


A]U)  SflCO. 


TIIK  OLD  INDUSTRIAL  CITIES.— BIDDEFORD  POOL. —  FORTUNE'S  ROCKS. 
—  GOOSE  ROCKS.  —  S.vco. 

HFTER  the  mild  vagary  of  this  digression  down  the  Kennebunkport 
Branch,  we  may  rejoin  the  Portland  train  at  Kennebunk,  and  ride 
for  nearly  ten  miles  through  a  rugged  inland  region,  to  the  Saeo 
River. 

Biddeford  and  Saco  are  busy  little  twin  cities  at  the  falls  of  the 
Saco  River,  not  far  above  its  mouth,  the  one  with  ten  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, the  other  with  eight  thousand,  and  each  enjoying  the  usual 
New-England  quota  of  newspapers,  churches,  schools,  hotels,  and 
public  libraries.  Around  the  falls  are  great  cotton-mills  (Laconia  and 
Pepperell)  and  other  active  manufacturing  industries.  The  cotton- 
mills  send  their  products  in  great  quantities  to  China,  and  other  far- 
away countries;  and  other  manufactured  products  of  this  Yankee  hive 
find  their  markets  in  Mexico.  South  America,  and  Italy. 

The  site  of  Biddeford,  with  miles  of  the  adjacent  country,  was 
granted  by  the  Plymouth  Company  to  John  Oldham  and  Richard  Vines, 
the  latter  of  whom,  after  dwelling  here  for  fifteen  years,  was  glad  to 
go  away  to  the  more  genial  climate  of  Barbadoes.  selling  his  territory 
to  Dr.  Robert  Child,  of  Boston,  lie,  in  turn,  sold  it  to  Maj.  William 
Phillips,  who  re-enforced  the  title  by  buying  it  also  of  the  Indian 
sachem.  Mogg  Megone. 

Biddeford  Pool,  down  near  the  mouth  of  the  river,  was  in  former 
days  one  of  the  pet  resorts  of  the  Maine  seaboard,  visited  every  return- 
ing summer  by  hundreds  of  city  families.  But  a  few  years  ago  the 
chief  hotels  were  burned  down,  and  the  remaining  house  (the  Sea- 
View)  and  cottages  hardly  suffice  to  accommodate  their  would-be 
patrons.  For  the  place  lias  great  natural  beantie*  and  advantages, 
which  should  be  more  fully  and  freely  developed.  The  Pool  itself  is 
a  shallow  salt-water  lagoon  two  mile>  h>mr.  filled  high  by  the  returning 
tides,  and  a  Hording  capital  opportunities  for  safe  boating,  while  to  flu- 
eastward  is  a  long  sandy  beach,  rolled  hard  by  the  surf,  and  to  the 
north,  beyond  the  famous  Wood-Nland  I/nrlit.  the  eye  rests  contented 
on  tlii' curving  lines  of  Old-Orchard  Headland  the  dim  seaward  pro- 
jection of  Prout's  Neck.  On  one  side  of  the  narrow  outlet  of  the  Pool 
rises  the  irrim  little  Fort  Hill,  where  the  colonists  erected  their  stronc- 


Ill 

hold  of  Fort  Mary,  in  1708,  after  the  truculent  Indians  had  captured 
their  stone  fort  up  near  the  falls.  For  many  years,  from  the  early 
provincial  times,  the  Pool  was  as  beneficent  as  Riloam  or  Bethesda  in 
the  belief  of  the  Maine  farmers,  who  had  a  fancy  that  whoever  bathed 
therein  on  the  2(>th  day  of  June  would  be  healed  of  all  diseases.  This  is 
indeed  the  festival  of  Sts.  Vigilius,  Maxentius,  and  Anthelm,  but  what 
connection  these  Latin  worthies  may  have  had  with  the  coast  of  Maine 
is  not  clear. 

A  steamboat  runs  from  Biddeford  to  Biddeford  Pool  twice  daily, 
and  crosses  also  to  Camp  Ellis,  the  terminus  of  the  Old-Orchard-Beach 
Kailroad,  where  connection  is  made  for  Old-Orchard  Beach. 

Fortune's  Kocks  and  (loose  Kocks,  with  their  small  hotels  and  clus- 
ters of  cottages,  are  reached  by  stages  from  Biddeford;  and  their  bold 
and  rugged  coast-scenery,  and  opportunities  for  fishing  and  gunning, 
attract  many  visitors.  Fortune's  Kocks  is  a  series  of  iron-bound 
promontories  projecting  into  the  sea  from  the  lower  end  of  the  mag- 
niticent  beach  running  north  to  Biddeford  Pool ;  and  lias  cottagers 
from  Boston,  New  York,  Washington,  and  other  cities,  with  lakes  rich 
in  water-lilies,  and  comfortable  old  farms  on  the  landward  side.  The 
rocks  allbrd  a  wonderful  marine  garden,  where  star-fish,  sea-anemones, 
sea-urchins,  and  other  strange  creatures  dwell,  with  seals  sunning 
themselves  on  the  outer  ledges. 

The  first  settler  of  Saco  was  Councillor  Kichard  Bonython,  whose 
son  John  made  a  hard  fight  against  Massachusetts  annexing  Maine, 
wherefore  some  inimical  person  inscribed  on  his  grave: 

"  Here  lien  Bonython,  sagamore  of  Saco; 
He  lived  a  roitue,  and  died  a  knave,  and  went  to  Ilobbomocko." 

(The  last  word  was  Indian  forsJie.nl.)  In  later  years,  the  town  had  a 
large  lumber-trade  with  the  West  Indie*,  and  turned  out  many  a  sca- 
nning vc<scl.  merchantman  or  privateer. 

The  park  of  Saco  was  laid  out  in  Iss4  by  Ernest  W.  Bowditch. 
inclndinir  the  broad  acres  given  to  the  town  in  1 7~>'2  by  Sir  William 
Pepperrell.  of  Kit t cry .  and  *ince  then  occupied  by  the  church,  ceme- 
tery, and  >chool-hou*e.  Another  local  pleasure-ground  is  Eastman 
Park,  occupying  the  site  of  the  old  Exchange  CoH'ee-I  loii>e.  The 
sojourner  in  the  tents  of  Saco  should  visit  the  lovely  Laurel-Hill  Ceme- 
tery; and  the  new  building  of  the  Thornton  Academy ;  and  the  inter- 
esting collection^  of  tlie  York  Institute. 

Soon  after  leavinir  the  Biddeford  Nation,  the  train  cro--e~-  the  Saco 
on  a  IOIILT  hridire.  with  intcivstinir  prn-pect*  on  cither  *idc:  and  in  a 
few  minute*  beyond  the  street*  of  Saco.  it  roll>  out  on  the  beach  at 
Old  Orchard.,  with  hiiire  hotel*  on  either  >ide.  and  the  >ea  whitening 
alonir  the  *and*  under  the  \\indo\\s. 


112 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


BEBCH. 


FERRY  BEACH.  —  OCEAN  PARK.— THE  BEACH  RAILROAD. — THE  HIS- 
TORIC "OLD  ORCHARD."  —  THE  DAYS  OF  WAR.  —  PINK  POINT. — 
SCARBOROUGH  BEACH. 

DLD-ORCHARD  Beach  is  the  most  popular  of  all  the  great  sum- 
mer-resorts that  line  the  coast  of  hundred-harbored  Maine.  It 
extends  from  the  mouth  of  the  Saco  River  to  Scarborough,  a  dis- 
tance of  six  miles,  a  magnificent  white  esplanade  of  hard  sand, 
shelving  gradually  away  under  the  sea,  and  at  low  tide  wide  enough 
and  firm  enough  to  accommodate  a  battery  of  artillery  deploj'ed.  Here 
the  children  build  their  houses  of  sand ;  and  lovers  stroll  up  and  down 
in  the  sunshine  or  starlight ;  and  vigorous  bathers  run  and  leap  after 
their  battling  with  the  electric  surf.  The  great  crescent  of  the  beach 
looks  straight  out  to  sea,  with  the  houses  at  Biddeford  Pool  on  the 
right,  and  on  the  left  Prout's  Xeck,  running  out  by  Stratton's  Island 
and  Bluff  Island.  On  one  side  are  forests  of  fresh  green  pines,  and 
on  the  other  open  measureless  vistas  over  the  salt  blue  sea.  so  that 
whithersoever  the  summer-breezes  may  come,  they  are  always  full  of 
efreshing.  This  is  not  the  bleak  sandy  selvage  of  a  land  of  marshes 
a.id  swamps,  but  the  beautiful  hills  and  woods  and  shaded  roads  come 
down  close  to  the  high-tide  line,  affording  every  variety  of  inland  scen- 
ery, as  fair  as  June  on  the  Miami.  The  drives  in  every  direction  are 
interesting,  and  continually  patronized  by  all  manner  of  vehicles,  from 
the  lumbering  beach-wagon  to  the  natty  dog-cart  or  the  pretentious 
barouche.  The  roads  to  Scarborough,  and  into  the  Ross  Woods,  and 
out  to  Saco  Falls,  lead  through  interesting  and  diversified  scenery;  and 
the  rambles  through  Fern  Park,  neglected  but  beautiful,  are  rich  in 
floral  beauty. 

The  visitors  at  Old  Orchard  represent  all  parts  of  the  country,  and 
also  include  many  distinguished  Canadian  families,  since  this  is  the 
favorite  resort  of  the  Montreal  aristocracy.  There  are  also  many 
people  from  the  Western  States,  and  from  below  the  famous  line  of 
Mason  and  Dixon. 

The  summer-season  is  filled  with  all  manner  of  entertainments, — 
readings,  musicales,  balls,  germans.  roller-skating,  camp-meetings, 
yachting-parties,  floral  carnivals,  bowlimr.  amaleur  theatricals,  tennis, 
base-ball,  the  diversions  of  visiting  Grand-Army  posts,  lodges  of 


113 

various  secret  mystic  societies,  Indians  from  the  Penobscot,  and 
gjpsies,  — and  all  these  events  are  chronicled  in  the  Old-Orchard  •'  Sea- 
Shell,"  the  summer-time  journal  of  this  bit  of  Vanity  Fair. 

Ferry  Beach  is  a  section  of  the  great  Old-Orchard  Beach,  about  two 
miles  west  of  the  chief  hotels,  with  the  pleasant  Bay-View  House  and 
a  score  of  cottages.  This  locality  has  been  frequented  by  Mrs.  Stowe, 
Mr.  Savage,  and  many  other  well-known  people,  who  wish  for  more 
quiet  and  repose  than  may  be  found  at  Old  Orchard  itself.  The  pros- 
pects over  the  sea  are  very  beautiful;  and  the  neighborhood  of  the 
forest  gives  an  added  charm  to  this  tranquil  region. 

Ocean  Park  is  the  summer  headquarters  of  the  Free  Baptists  of 
New  England,  with  their  church,  hotels,  and  cottages,  tilled  during 
every  August  with  evangelical  families.  The  tract  includes  a  hundred 
and  twenty  acres,  much  of  it  covered  with  large  pine-trees,  and  in  the 
Ocean-Park  Temple  sixteen  hundred  persons  can  be  seated.  In  the 
same  vicinity  is  the  camp-meeting  ground  of  the  Methodists,  with  its 
picturesque  forest-amphitheatre,  the  scene  of  many  an  impassioned 
sermon. 

The  western  end  of  the  beach  used  to  be  known  as  Bare-Knee  Point, 
from  a  fancied  resemblance.  Thence  extends  the  government  break- 
water, a  mile  of  huge  granite  blocks,  finished  in  1S7(>  at  a  cost  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  rendering  the  mouth  of  the 
Saco  deeper  and  more  easily  navigable.  This  shore  is  remarkable  for 
its  seals,  scores  of  which  may  be  seen  sunning  themselves  upon  the 
rocks  or  along  the  sandy  shoals.  The  beach  is  traversed  by  the  Old- 
Orchard-Beach  Railroad,  whose  trains  leave  the  main-line  station  of 
the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  a  do/en  or  more  times  daily,  and  run 
down  by  Ocean  Park  and  Ferry  Beach  to  Camp  Ellis,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Saco,  where  connection  is  made  with  the  steamboat  for  Biddeford 
and  Biddeford  Pool.  This  marine  ride  along  the  crest  of  the  beach  is 
full  of  beauty  and  interest,  and  gives  a  succession  of  panoramic  views 
of  the  blue  sea  and  its  islands  and  capes,  with  the  various  public  houses 
and  private  cottages  on  the  lower  readies  of  the  strand.  The  station 
at  Old-Orchard  Beach  is  one  hundred  and  four  miles  from  Boston  and 
twelve  miles  from  Portland,  and  may  be  reached  from  the  former  city 
in  three  and  a  quarter  hours,  by  fast  express-trains.  The  beach  rail- 
road runs  trains  nearly  every  hour  to  the  mouth  of  the  Saco  River. 

The  lirst  European  who  visited  Old-Orchard  Beach  was  ('apt.  Rich- 
ard Vines,  \\lio  arrived  here  in  the  early  autumn  of  li',n;.  when  the 
great  forests,  green  and  golden,  scarlet  and  brown,  came  down  un- 
broken to  the  water's  verge,  and  innumerable  sea-birds  fearlessly  ap- 
proached the  little  English  bark.  The  lirst  actual  settler  here  was 
Richard  Bonython.  who  built  his  loir-house  on  the  east  shore  of  the 
Saco.  near  its  mouth.  At  this  time,  and  for  half  a  century  after,  the 
sea-beaches  formed  th  •  only  roads  alonir  the  Maine  coast,  and  were 
traversed  continuallv  bv  the  colonists,  and  b\-  the  train-baiuN  of  the 


114 

Province.  These  journeys  were  made  on  foot,  since  no  horses  were 
brought  to  Maine  until  the  year  1658.  Here,  on  the  beach,  dwelt  John 
Bonython,  the  sagamore  of  Saco  : 

"  With  blanket  garb  and  buskined  knee, 
And  naught  of  the  English  fashion  on, 
For  he  hates  the  race  from  which  he  sprung, 
And  couches  his  word  iu  the  Indian  tongue." 

John  was  officially  declared  to  be  "  an  outlaw,  a  rebel,  and  unworthy  of 
His  Majesty's  protection,"  for  the  deeds  described  in  Whittier's  early 
epic  of  "  Mogg  Megonc;"  but  in  his  old  age  he  repented,  and  was 
received  back  among  his  people,  and  now  sleeps  in  a  grave  near  the 
beach.  A  worthier  accession  to  the  colony  was  Thomas  Rogers,  who 
cultivated  a  great  farm  at  the  mouth  of  Goose-Fair  Brook,  where  the 
wild-geese  used  to  flock  in  uncounted  myriads.  He  established  vine- 
yards here,  and  planted  a  famous  orchard  of  apple-trees,  which  re- 
mained for  a  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and,  in  the  gnarled  winter  of 
their  old  age,  gave  its  present  odd  name  to  the  beach.  In  1G7G  this 
valiant  gardener  beat  off  a  furious  attack  of  Indian  warriors,  and 
strewed  the  shore  with  their  bodies ;  but  deeming  such  episodes  ill- 
suited  to  the  tranquil  occupations  of  husbandry,  he  moved  away  to  Kit- 
tery  directly  after,  leaving  "  Rogers's  Garden"  to  remain  as  merely  a 
geographical  title  on  the  old  coast-maps.  His  son  and  a  party  of  young 
men  returned  to  remove  the  furniture,  but  fell  into  an  ambush  on  the 
beach  and  were  exterminated.  A  few  weeks  later,  a  detachment  of  Pro- 
vincial troops  were  marching  down  the  beach,  at  low  tide,  when  sud- 
denly their  talk  of  barracks  and  campaigns  was  drowned  by  the  terrible 
war-whoop,  coming  from  the  pine  woods  of  Camp  Comfort,  and  volleys 
of  arrows  and  gun-shots  stretched  many  of  them  on  the  wet  sands.  The 
survivors  took  refuge  behind  Googin's  Rocks,  and  repulsed  several 
attacks,  with  heavy  loss  to  the  assailants ;  and  before  the  rising  tide 
could  drive  them  from  this  fastness,  a  company  of  troops  from  Saco 
Ferry  came  on  to  the  scene,  at  double-quick,  and  the  enemy  sullenly 
retired.  The  advancing  sea  speedily  cleared  the  battle-field  of  its  dead. 
Near  this  point,  at  Saco  Ferry,  the  first  hotel  in  Maine  was  opened, 
in  1054,  when  Henry  Waddock  was  licensed  "to  keep  an  ordinary  to 
entertain  strangers  for  their  money."  It  was  a  thatched  log-house, 
with  beds  of  dried  grass,  hewn-timber  floors,  each  end  occupied  by  a 
great  stone  chimney,  and  furniture  of  simple  domestic  manufacture, 
except  a  few  pieces  brought  from  England.  "  Waddock's  Ordinary  " 
was  successfully  run  for  104  years,  until  the  building  of  the  bridge  at 
Biddeford  turned  all  travel  from  this  route,  and  left  the  old  tavern 
stranded.  Humphrey  Scammon.  its  landlord  in  lUiss.  was  mowing  his 
meadow  one  day,  and  his  little  son.  bearing  to  him  the  family  mug  of 
beer,  saw  a  war-party  of  Indians  approaching.  The  lad  carried  back 
the  mug,  and  put  it  on  the  dresser,  and  informed  his  mother  of  the  un- 
welcome guests,  who  forthwith  seized  the  whole  family  and  carried 


115 


116 

them  off  to  Fryeburg  and  Canada.  A  year  later  they  were  permitted  to 
return,  at  the  dawn  of  peace,  and  found  the  old  tavern  cat  mewing  at 
the  door,  and  the  beer-mug  still  standing  on  the  side-board.  (This 
relic,  with  its  etghed  portrait  of  William  of  Orange,  is  still  preserved 
in  Saco,  by  a  descendant  of  the  family.) 

In  later  years,  the  beach  became  the  scene  of  the  Fontinalia,  or 
mystic  bathing-days,  of  the  surrounding  country,  when  thousands  of 
yeomen  came  hither  and  dipped  in  the  sea,  believing  that  on  the  2Gth 
day  of  June  miraculous  healing-powers  were  given  to  the  waters.  For 
many  years,  by  a  singular  appropriateness,  this  Festival  of  Waters  was 
appointed  for  the  2-ith  of  June,  the  day  sacred  to  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
but  when  the  time  for  convening  the  General  Court  of  the  Province  of 
Maine,  at  Saco,  was  fixed  at  June  25th,  the  day  following  was  chosen 
as  the  one  sacred  to  bathing  in  the  sea ;  and  to  the  present  time  the 
summer-season  at  Old  Orchard  fairly  begins  on  this  auspicious  date. 

In  the  good  old  days  long  before  the  war.  people  used  to  board  in 
the  adjacent  farm-houses  for  a  dollar  a  week,  enjoying  the  plain  and 
plentiful  fare  of  Xew-England  yeomen.  The  first  summer-visitors 
came  in  1837,  and  were  entertained  in  his  ancestral  home  by  E.  C. 
Staples,  who  afterwards  became  the  founder  and  proprietor  of  the 
magnificent  Old-Orchard  House.  A  few  of  these  early  comers  were 
Montreal  people,  who  drove  all  the  way  from  the  Canadian  metropolis 
in  their  own  carriages,  spending  some  weeks  on  the  road. 

Great  fires  have  occurred  here  which  swept  away  many  of  the 
hotels,  but  they  have  been  promptly  rebuilt,  in  response  to  the  popular 
demand.  A  few  years  ago,  the  beach  village  and  its  outlying  territory 
became  an  independent  township,  seceding  from  Saco,  and  setting  up 
its  own  local  government. 

Pine  Point  projects  into  the  sea  at  the  eastern  end  of  Old-Orchard 
Beach,  and  has  three  small  summer-hotels,  with  plenty  of  fishing  and 
shooting,  boating  and  bathing,  and  a  famous  excellence  of  clam-bakes. 
Across  the  Scarborough  River  are  the  rugged  shores  of  Front's  Xeck. 
There  arc  many  red-roofed  summer-cottages  here,  and  along  Grand 
Beach,  which  runs  thence  to  Old  Orchard.  The  view  from  Blue-Point 
Hill  is  renowned  for  its  beauty:  and  Dunstan  Landing  should  be 
visited,  and  the  Beach  Ridges,  along  the  Nonesuch  River,  and  Scottow's 
Hill,  and  other  interesting  points. 

Scarborough  Beach  has  been  for  many  years  a  favorite  resort 
in  summer,  with  its  Kirkwood  and  Atlantic  Houses,  having  stages  run- 
ning frequently  to  the  station,  and  unobstructed  views  over  tne  broad 
Atlantic,  dotted  with  the  sails  of  the  coasting-fleet,  bound  to  and  from 
Portland.  The  beach  is  two  miles  long,  and  gives  plentiful  opportuni- 
ties for  marine  diversions. —  bathing,  fishing,  etc.. —  while  the  border- 
ing forests  abound  in  pleasant  and  sequestered  rambles.  Here  Front's 
Xeck  projects  far  into  the  sea.  a  secluded  region  of  pine  woods  and 
surf-swept  rocks,  frequented  by  hundreds  of  old  hnl>itiii'-x.  Ilere  are 


117 

the  Checklcy,  West-Point,  Cammock,  and  other  public  houses;  and 
near  the  surf  stands  the  cottage  and  studio  of  the  famous  artist, 
Winslow  Homer.  It  is  not  yet  a  fashionable  place,  but  its  happy  fre- 
quenters find  here  all  the  charm  and  restfulncss  of  Nature,  amid  her 
choicest  and  most  lovely  scenes.  There  is  a  small  Episcopal  chapel 
out  on  the  Neck,  not  far  from  the  remains  of  the  ancient  fort,  on 
Garrison  Cove,  which  was  besieged  and  captured  by  Mogg  Megone's 
Indians  in  1G7G.  Several  line  cottages  have  been  erected  in  this 
vicinity.  East  of  Scarborough  Beach  is  Higgins  Beach,  with  its  sum- 
mer-colony, extending  to  Spurwink  River. 

In  1791  Scarborough  had  22:55  inhabitants  (600  more  than  now),  and 
stood  equal  with  Portland  in  population  and  importance.  As  Clarence 
Cook  says:  "Its  position  as  a  sea-port  gave  it  some  importance,  and 
the  society  was  far  above  what  is  ordinarily  met  with  at  such  places." 
Among  the  local  belles  of  those  forgotten  days  was  Eliza  Southgate, 
whose  delightful  letters  were  recently  published  ;  and  also  Miss  Wads- 
worth,  Gen.  Peleg  AVadsworth's  daughter,  and  the  mother  of  the  po>et 
Longfellow.  In  the  neighboring  forests  were  many  saw-mills,  "those 
engines  so  useful  for  the  destruction  of  wood  and  timber;"  and  the 
woods  abounded  in  great  game,  —  deer,  bears,  and  wolves. 

The  first  grantee  of  this  region  was  Capt.  Thomas  Cammock.  the 
nephew  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  who  joyfully  exchanged  the  sunny 
English  Avon  for  the  lonely  Spurwink.  destined  to  be  so  often  ensan- 
guined by  the  blood  of  the  colonists,  slain  by  marauding  Indians. 
Stratton,  who  preceded  the  doughty  captain,  lived  on  the  island  which 
still  bears  his  name,  much  mistrusting  his  red-skinned  neighbors  of 
Owascoag.  For  they  were  gallant  fellows,  these  aborigines,  and  at 
one  time  nearly  annihilated  a  force  of  Massachusetts  infantry  that 
landed  on  the  beach,  leaving  sixty  slain  Provincials  on  the  Held.  The 
bloody  annals  of  this  bit  of  shore  are  full  of  deeds  of  high  emprise  and 
heroic  daring,  for  the  handful  of  pioneers  for  many  years  successfully 
fought  the  swarms  of  forest  Indians,  led  by  skilful  French  otliccrs 
from  Canada.  And  when  the  tocsin  of  a  greater  war  sounded  from 
Lexington.  Scarborough  sent  tifty  valiant  soldiers  into  the  field  in  a 
single  dav. 


Soon  after  crossing  Fore  River,  the  train  rumbles  into  the  hand- 
some new  I'liion  Railway  Station  (under  Bramhall  Hill  i  in  Portland,  a 
long  irranite  structure,  with  a  clock-tower,  a  train-house  of  iron  and 
glass,  and  riclilv  decorated  interior  halls. 


118 


CHAPTER   XVII. 


PORTItflfiD. 


MUNJOY'S  HILL.  —  THE  BOMBAIUXMEXT  OF  PORTLAND.  —  FAMOUS 
NATIVES.  —  A  ROMANESQUE  LIBKAKY. — THE  XEW  LONGFELLOW 
STATUE.  —  STATE  STKEET. — CAIJE  ELIZABETH. — CASCO  BAY. — 
CUSHING'S  ISLAND.  —  HAIJPSWELL. 

PORTLAND  is  one  of  the  loveliest  cities  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  and 
Avill  well  repay  the  passing  traveller  for  a  sojourn  of  a  few 
hours,  or  clays.  It  stands  on  a  high  and  hilly  peninsula  a  league 
long,  between  the  noble  square  mile  of  the  inner  harbor  (or  Fore 
River)  and  the  wide  tidal  basin  of  Back  Cove,  separating  it  from  the 
shores  of  Deering.  At  its  outer  (or  north-eastern)  tip,  the  peninsula 
swells  up  into  the  bold  height  of  Munjoy's  Hill,  commemorating  some 
gallant  Mountjoy  of  the  colonial  days,  and  crowned  with  a  lighthouse- 
like  observatory-tower,  from  which  you  may  look  down  on  the  many 
green  islands  of  Casco  Bay,  and  the  far-reaching  ocean,  while  in  the 
other  direction  the  magnificent  range  of  the  White  Mountains  forms  a 
pale-blue  sierra  on  the  horizon.  Along  Munjoy  are  the  homes  of  the 
middle-class  people,  although  there  are  also  some  attractive  houses  of 
wealthy  families,  especially  upon  the  Eastern  Promenade,  famous  for 
its  wonderful  views  over  sea  and  islands.  In  the  old  cemetery  on 
Munjoy's  Hill,  where  the  founders  of  the  town  sleep,  are  the  graves  of 
the  two  young  commanders  of  the  American  and  British  war-brigs 
Enterprise  and  Bosi-r.  both  slain  in  the  glorious  naval  battle  oft'  Port- 
land Harbor,  in  isio.  when  the  Yankee  vessel  prevailed  over  her 
antagonist,  and  brought  her  into  this  port.  In  the  words  of  Long- 
fellow : 

"  I  remember  the  sea-light  far  away, 

IIow  it  thundered  o'er  the  tide! 
And  the  dead  captains,  as  they  lay 
In  their  craves,  o'erlooking  the  tranquil  bay, 

Where  they  in  kittle  died." 

The  landward  end  of  the  peninsula  rises  into  Bramhall  Hill,  the 
fashionable  residence-quarter,  or  West  End.  of  the  city,  from  whose 
Western  Promenade  may  be  gained  a  remarkable  view  of  the  White 
Mountains.  Here  are  the  handsome  villas  of  the  Brown.  Davis.  Hur- 
rowes.  and  other  families,  the  best  work  of  Portland's  laudable  archi- 
tects.—  iiK-n  like  Stevens  and  Fassett  and  their  colleagues.  Portland 


119 


VIEWS   IN   AM)   Al'.UUNU   PORTLAND. 


120 

has  been  likened  to  a  lion  couchant,  with  Munjoy's  Hill  for  its  head, 
and  Congress  Street  for  its  spine,  and  the  steep  cross-streets  for  ribs. 
When  the  Court  of  Versailles  decreed  that  Xew  England  should  be 
devastated  by  its  gallant  captains  and  their  Indian  allies,  one  of  the 
first  blows  fell  on  this  settlement,  when  an  army  of  Frenchmen  and 
savages  descended  from  the  northern  wilderness  and  destroyed  the 
town  (in  1690),  and  finally  compelled  the  surrender  of  Fort  Loyall 
(which  stood  near  the  present  Grand-Trunk  station).  Time  after  time, 
in  those  bloody  days,  the  place  was  desolated  and  ruined,  and  became 
known  as  "deserted  Casco;"  and  after  those  dangers  finally  passed 
away  forever,  a  new  foeman  appeared,  in  1775,  when,  with  five  British 
Avar-ships.  Capt.  Mowatt  bombarded  the  town  and  reduced  it  to  ashes, 
parties  of  blue-jackets  landing  from  the  ships  to  set  the  torch  to  the 


buildings  which  had  escaped  damage  from  their  batteries.  What  inter- 
esting chapters  of  local  history  are  those  describing  the  Portland  fleet 
of  privateers  of  1S12-1.">.  the  rise  of  the  rich  merchants,  the  era  of 
railroad  construction,  the  city's  contribution  of  five  thousand  soldiers 
to  the  National  army  in  the  Secession  War.  the  quickly  avenged  capture 
of  the  United-States  revenue-cutter  Caleb  Cu shiny  in  the  harbor  by  a 
detachment  of  bold  Confederate  sailors,  the  Great  Fire  of  18(iG,  which 
destroyed  fifteen  hundred  buildings  and  six  and  a  half  million  dol- 
lars' worth  of  property,  and  the  subsequent  re-construction  of  the  city 
on  a  more  metropolitan  scale!  The  population  of  Portland  is  not  far 
from  thirty-six  thousand. 

This  '-fairest  (laughter  of  Massachusetts"  has  won  distinction  by 
her  famous  sons.  —  Longfellow  and  Willis  and  Fanny  Fern  and  John 
Neal  and  Sidncv  Luska  in  literature.  Paul  Akers  and  llarrv  Brown  in 


121 

art,  the  Prehlcs  and  Admiral  Alden  in  naval  history,  Erastus  and  James 
Brooks  (of  New  York)  in  journalism,  and  many  others.  In  the  ranks 
of  local  newspaper-writers  have  been  numbered  Elijah  Kellogg,  James 
G.  Elaine,  William  Pitt  Eessenden,  Seba  Smith,  Prof.  Morse,  Ann  S. 
Stephens,  and  others. 

Among  the  public  buildings  we  may  notice  the  city-hall,  a  handsome 
and  spacious  structure  of  Nova-Scotia  sand-stone;  the  post-oHice,  in 
rich  classic  architecture,  of  white  Vermont  marble ;  and  the  custom- 
house, a  modern  granite  edifice,  down  in  the  maritime  quarter.  One 
of  the  handsomest  Romanesque  buildings  in  America  is  the  new  public 
library,  on  Congress  Street,  whose  symmetrical  round  arches  and 


(f 


statuary  would  do  honor  to  Ravenna  or  Rome.  Here  also  arc  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Maine  Historical  Society  and  the  Society  of  Arts,  with 
their  varied  collections. 

At  tin-  crossing  of  Congress  and  State  Streets  is  a  noble  broii/.e 
statue  of  Portland's  most  illustrious  sou.  Henry  Wadswortli  Long- 
fellow, representing  the  great  poet,  as  sitting  in  an  armchair,  facing 
the  ea>t.  and  holding  a  partly  unrolled  scroll.  This  capital  work  of 
art  was  designed  by  Franklin  Simmons,  a  Maine  sculptor,  for  many 
years  resident  in  Home.  The  statue  cost  twelve  thousand  dollars. 
which  was  raised  by  public  subscriptions  :  and  the  uiiveilinir  and  dedi- 
cation occurred  in  isss.  in  tin-  presence  of  upwards  of  live  thousand 
people. 

Among  the   notable  and  interesting  churches   of   the  citv   are  the 


122 

Episcopal  Cathedral  of  St.  Luke,  the  great  Catholic  Cathedral  of  the 
Immaculate  Conception,  with  a  spire  sixteen  feet  higher  than  Bunker- 
Hill  Monument;  the  old  First-Parish  church  (Unitarian),  with  heavy 
walls  of  granite  and  a  quaint  clock-tower;  the  Second-Parish  church, 
of  stone,  and  the  First  Baptist  Church. 

The  house  in  which  Longfellow  was  born  still  stands  at  the  corner 
of  Fore  and  Hancock  Streets,  once  a  fashionable  quarter,  but  now  the 
dingiest  part  of  the  town,  amid  docks  and  elevators  and  railwaj's.  It  is 
occupied  by  several  Irish  families.  Up  in  the  busy  residence-quarter, 
on  Congress  Street,  stands  the  ancestral  Wadsworth  mansion,  Long- 


fellow's  abiding-place  when  lie  visited  Portland  in  later  years.  Next 
door  is  the  Treble  House,  erected  by  an  Italian  architect  in  1»0(>,  for 
the  home  of  Commodore  Treble  (Treble  of  Tripoli). 

State  Street  is  one  of  the  famous  old  residence-streets  of  "New 
England,  with  double  rows  of  murmuring  elms,  and  lines  of  great  old 
mansions,  dating  from  the  days 

"  Whi'ii  men  lived  in  a  grander  way, 
With  ampler  hospitality." 

As  a  centre  of  summer-excursions,  Portland  has  many  advantages, 
in  its  comfortable  hotels,  its  beautiful  and  historic  environs,  its  rail- 


123 

roads  running  in  a  few  miles  to  many  famous  beach  and  lake  resorts, 
and  lines  of  steamboats  to  the  islands  of  the  harbor  and  Casco  Bay, 
and  outside  to  Squirrel  Island,  Damariscotta,  and  other  points.  Here, 
too,  the  Mount-Desert  steamers  may  be  taken,  for  longer  voyages  to 
the  eastward,  over  the  open  sea.  Among  the  interesting  drives  from 
Portland  we  may  go  out  over  Tukey's  Bridge,  by  East  Decring  and  the 
United-States  Marine  Hospital  on  Martin's  Point,  to  Falmouth  Fore- 
side,  with  magnificent  views  over  Casco  Bay ;  or  over  the  shell-road  to 
Peering' s  Oaks  and  Woodford's ;  or  to  the  beautiful  Evergreen  Ceme- 
tery, with  its  many  monuments ;  or  to  Pride's  Bridge,  on  the  gently- 
flowing  Presumpscot  River.  There  is  a  pleasant  drive  leading  down 
the  coast,  by  the  great  dry-docks  and  the  ship-building  hamlet  of 
Knightville,  to  the  ancient  and  favorably-known  summer-resort  called 
Cape  Cottage,  and  to  the  unfinished  fortifications  and  tall  white  light- 
house on  Portland  Head.  The  shore  hereaway  is  remarkably  bold  and 
rocky,  and  in  time  of  storm  a  tremendous  surf  rolls  in,  crashing  upon 
the  unyielding  cliffs  with  a  roar  that  is  heard  for  miles. 

Farther  down  on  this  grand  iron-bound  coast  stands  the  Ocean 
House,  much  visited  by  Canadians,  and  not  far  from  the  light-houses 
which  sustain  the  Two  Lights.  The  Spurwink  River,  Iliggins  Beach, 
and  Scarborough  Beach  lie  beyond.  All  along  this  Cape-Elizabeth 
shore  there  are  many  summer-cottages,  mainly  pertaining  to  the  gentry 
of  Portland, —  the  Browns,  Lorings,  Libbys,  and  other  families, —  some 
of  them,  like  the  Goddard  and  Beckett  places,  being  massively  built 
of  the  native  rock.  The  well-known  Portland  author,  John  Neal,  be- 
gan this  summer  development  in  1855,  by  the  erection  of  the  Cape 
Cottage.  Around  Pond  Cove  there  are  now  a  number  of  handsome 
places,  including  that  of  Edward  Russell,  of  the  Mercantile  Agency; 
and  at  Yellow  Head  are  the  Loring  cottages,  overlooking  the  three 
forts  and  the  outer  islands. 

The  best  companion  to  rambles  in  and  around  the  city  is  Hull's 
illustrated  ••  Handbook  of  Portland." 

Casco  Bay  is  traversed  continually  by  several  lines  of  steamboats, 
bound  for  Freeport.  Yarmouth,  Harpsweli,  Falmouth  Foreside.  Dama- 
riscotta,  Cliebeague,  Diamond  Island.  Cushing's  Island,  and  many 
another  locality,  famous  in  the  happy  annals  of  summer-voyagers.  It 
takes  about  an  hour  and  a  halt'  to  Harpswell.  and  the  boats  make 
several  round-trips  daily. 

The  gem  of  the  harbor  is  Cushing's  Island,  covering  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  acres,  and  only  three  miles  from  the  city,  with  which  it 
is  connected  by  frequent  steamboats.  On  one  side  it  faces  to  the 
northward,  towards  the  beautiful  Forest  City,  and  on  the  other  the 
lofty  dill's  confront  the  sea.  which  roars  at  their  feet  continually.  The 
island  is  rich  in  groves  of  fir  and  spruce,  whose  perennial  perfume 
mingles  with  the  crisp  sea-air  to  make  a  bracing  draught  for  the  lungs. 
A  league  or  more  of  roads  traverses  the  domain,  leading  from  the  pier 


124 

out  to  White  Head,  that  great  precipice  which  frowns  down  on  the 
waves  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below.  The  Ottawa  House,  for  many 
years  favored  by  Canadian  families  as  a  summer-resort,  was  burned 
to  the  ground  in  188G  ;  and  in  1888  the  present  hotel  of  the  same  name 
rose  on  its  site.  A  safe  bathing-beach  borders  on  the  main  ship- 
channel,  close  at  hand.  Elsewhere  around  the  beautiful  island  are 
attractive  summer-cottages,  the  beginnings  of  the  future  patrician 
colony  that  is  to  find  its  place  here.  The  park-roads  and  shores  and 
villa-sites  and  public  buildings  were  laid  out  and  arranged  by  Frederick 
Law  Olmsted,  the  most  famous  of  American  landscape-gardeners,  so 
that  the  best  features  of  the  island  are  adequately  developed  and  made 


the  most  of.  Looking  up  the  harbor  we  sec  the  forts,— Scammel  and 
Treble  and  Gorges. —  the  Portland  Breakwater,  the  populous  and  spire- 
crowned  hills  of  the  city,  and  the  fur-away  range  of  the  "White  Moun- 
tains, nobly  outlined  against  the  remote  horizon.  Nearer  at  hand,  the 
coasting-vessels,  steamers,  and  ynohts  fill  the  outer  harbor  with  grace- 
ful life  and  animation:  while  off  to  the  north-cast  the  multitudinous 
isles  of  Casco  Bay  are  grouped  in  kaleidoscopic  variation.  On  the 
other  side  is  the  great  dominating  ocean,  broken  only  by  the  rocks  of 
Ram  Island,  and  extending  away  to  the  dim  horizon's  verge,  beyond 
the  wild  flowers  and  berry-bushes,  the  evergreen  groves,  and  spray- 
laden  air.  The  island  became  the  home  of  James  Andrews  in  1M7. 
and  contained  a  primitive  fortress,  to  which  the  people  of  Portland  fled 


125 

when  the  French  and  Indian  savages  ravaged  their  homes.  About  the 
year  1850,  it  passed  into  the  possession  of  Lemuel  dishing,  a  Canadian 
gentleman,  whose  sons  succeeded  to  the  estate,  and  have  been  actively 
concerned  in  its  development  as  a  summer-resort. 

Another  of  the  favorite  harbor-resorts  is  Teak's  Island,  covering 
more  than  a  square  mile,  and  a  hundred  feet  high  in  the  centre,  with 
its  outer  edge  of  rugged  crags,  broken  and  tormented  by  the  surf. 
Several  hundred  people  live  here  the  year  round ;  and  in  summer  the 
population  is  doubled,  when  the  hotels  iill  up  with  guests,  and  the 
headlands  are  garrisoned  by  camping-parties.  It  is  a  more  democratic 
resort  than  Oushing's  Island,  with  greater  relaxation  from  the  strait 
lacings  of  life,  and  a  more  pervading  atmosphere  of  mirth  and  uncon- 
ventionalism.  The  views  over  ocean  and  shore  arc  fine,  and  the  sea- 
air  overflows  the  region  like  a  benediction. 

Farther  up  in  Casco  Bay,  and  visited  by  steamboats  from  Portland, 
are  other  pleasant  islands,  hundreds  in  number,  with  wave-embroidered 
shores  anil  groves  of  sturdy  trees,  and  quiet  beaches.  On  Little  Che- 
beague,  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  these,  stands  a  comfortable 
hotel  for  summer-guests,  among  the  oaks  and  evergreens,  and  look- 
ing out  on  the  bay,  the  ocean,  and  the  White  Mountains.  Great  Che- 
beague  covers  two  thousand  acres,  and  has  a  considerable  population 
of  farmers  and  fishermen,  with  schools  and  churches,  good  roads,  and 
one  or  two  summer-hotels.  Diamond  has  a  group  of  summer-cottages, 
and  several  good  beaches,  with  a  wealth  of  oak  and  hickory  groves. 
The  artistic  summer  headquarters  of  the  Portland  Club  stands  on  this 
island.  Among  the  other  interesting  localities  in  Casco  Bay  are  Long 
Island,  with  hotels  and  boarding-houses  and  cottages:  Jewell's  Island. 
'lie  summer-residence  of  James  McKeen,  Esq.,  of  New  York;  and 
IIojv  Island,  with  its  quirt  little  hotel.  Farther  on,  numberless  lonely 
islets  gem  the  blue  waters,  crowned  with  tall  trees,  and  sheltering 
many  a  lovely  cove  and  sandy  beach. 

The  Casco-Hay  steamboats  make  several  voyages  daily  from  Port- 
land for  fourteen  miles  through  the  fairy-like  green  archipelago  to 
Harpswcll.  a  lonir  sea-beaten  peninsula  on  which  there  are  several 
quiet  little  summer-hotels  and  farm  boarding-houses.  Whoever  comes 
hither  for  a  season  should  bring  Mrs.  Stowe's  beautiful  romance. 
"  The  Pearl  of  Orr's  Island."  whose  scene  is  laid  hore,  amid  the  quaint 
llsher-folk  who  for  centuries  have  dwelt  about  these  sequestered 
coves.  HIT'S  Inland  itself  is  contiguous  to  llarpswell.  and  joined  to  it 
by  a  highway  bridge.  Uroad  oil'  in  the  bay.  live  miles  out.  is  Hagged 
I-laud.  witli  its  two  ancient  houses,  the  scene  of  Elijah  Kcllogg's 
••Kim-Island"  stories.  Xor  should  we  forget  Whittier's  powerful 
ball-id  of  --Tlie  Dead  Ship  of  llarpswell,"  preserving  an  old  legend 
of  the<e  romantic  shores. 

"  In  vain  o'er  Harpswcll  Xcrk  the  star 
Of  c\  cniiii.'  nuiiU-s  her  in  ; 


126 

In  vain  for  her  the  lamps  are  lit 

Within  thy  tower,  Seguin ! 
In  vain  the  harbor-boat  shall  hail, 

In  vain  the  pilot  call; 
No  hand  shall  reef  her  spectral  sail, 

Or  let  her  anchor  fall." 

The  name  of  this  matchless  bay  is  derived  from  the  Indian  Uh- 
kos-is-co,  meaning  "Heron,"  and  taken  from  the  great  night-herons, 
blue-winged  and  white-breasted,  that  have  for  centuries  dwelt  here  in 
great  numbers.  The  heronries  are  still  found  on  the  more  secluded 
islands,  abounding  in  their  pale  sea-green  eggs,  and  the  debris  of  fish- 
dinners  served  to  their  clamorous  young  by  the  parent  birds.  The 
bay  was  explored  by  the  tireless  Capt.  John  Smith,  in  the  almost  pre- 
historic time  before  the  settlements ;  and  during  the  colonial  era,  the 
garrisons  and  war-ships  of  Massachusetts  had  many  a  hot  battle  here 
with  the  natives,  who  struck  hard  for  home-rule.  But  the  last  of 
their  canoes  had  long  since  vanished  when  (in  1822)  Capt.  Porter  puffed 
into  the  bay  with  his  primitive  steamboat,  which  the  islanders  derided 
under  the  opprobrious  name  of  The  Horned  Hog.  Of  late  years,  the 
popular  yearning  for  sea-shore  life  has  caused  these  shores  to  be 
invaded  by  hundreds  of  plain  summer-cottages,  occupying  the  Fal- 
mouth-Foreside  shores  for  miles,  and  latterly  rising  on  many  of  the 
islands.  The  happiest  characterization  of  the  Casco  archipelago 
occurs  in  Whittier's  poem  : 

"  Xowhere  fairer,  sweeter,  rarer, 
Hoes  the  golden-locked  fruit-bearer 

Through  his  painted  woodlands  stray, 
Than  where  hillside  oaks  and  beeches 
Overlook  the  long  blue  reaches, 
Silver  coves  and  pebbled  beaches, 

And  green  isles  of  Caseo  Bay  ; 

Xowhere  day,  for  delay, 
With  a  tenderer  look  beseeches, 
'  Let  me  with  my  charmed  earth  stay  '  ' 

On  the  grainlands  of  the  mainlands 
Stands  the  serried  corn  like  train-bands, 

Plume  and  pennon  rustling  gay  ; 
Out  at  sea,  the  islands  wooded, 
Silver  birches,  golden-hooded, 
Set  with  maples,  crimson-blooded, 

White  sea-foam  and  sand-hills  gray, 

Stretch  away,  far  away, 
Dim  and  dreamy,  over-brooded 

By  the  hazy  autumn  day.'1 


127 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


POPHAfll  BEACH. 


FAKTHKK    EASTWARD.  —  On  it's    ISLAND.  —  -Four    POPIIAM.  —  HUNNK- 
•NVKLL'S   POINT.  —  INDIANS  vs.    ANGLICANS. 

"  Bays  resplendent  as  the  heaven, 

Starred  and  gemmed  by  thousand  isles, 
Gird  thee,  —  Casco  with  its  islets, 
Quoddy  with  its  dimpled  smiles." 

HX  hour  and  a  half  by  rail  eastward  from  Portland,  passing  around 
Casco  Bay,   and   through  Brunswick,   the  seat  of   the  famous 
Bowdoin  College,  and  we  come  to  Bath,  the  bright  and  busy 
ship-building  city  on  the  Kenncbcc,  a  central  point  for  several 
most  interesting  excursions.    It  is  a  long-drawn-out  place,  hugging  the 
deep  bright  river  for  a  league,  but  not  venturing  far  inland,  with  ten  or 
twelve  thousand    inhabitants,   and  a  church  for  each  thousand,   and 
public  buildings  of  the  United  States  and  Sagadahoc  County.     In  the 
old  days  some  of  the  finest  of  American  ships  were  built  here,  and  the 
local  shipwrights  still  maintain  their  traditions  and  their  high  repute, 
and  from  time  to  time  launch  a  noble  and  beautiful  vessel. 

Here  the  cars  are  ferried  across  the  river  to  Woolwich,  on  the  Knox 
&  Lincoln  liailroad  to  Rockland  and  Penobscot  Bay.  Hence  also 
steamboats  depart  daily  for  the  ports  on  the  Kennebcc  River,  and  for 
1'opliam  Beach,  and  for  the  land-aml-water  maze  leading  to  Squirrel 
Island  and  Damariscotta. 

The  drive  to  Orr's  Island  leads  through  miles  of  forests  of  '•mur- 
muring pines  and  hemlocks  "and  luxuriant  balsam-firs,  with  occasional 
glimpses  of  the  islanded  sea.  From  the  point  where  the  road  crosses 
Cork-screw  Hill,  the  view  is  of  rare  and  unusual  beauty,  including 
Cape  Small  Point,  llarpswell  Neck,  and  many  beautiful  islets,  studding 
the  many-voiced  main.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  is  the  bridge  leading  to 
Orr's  Nhuid.  a  bold,  precipitous,  evergreen-crowned  shore  traversed 
alonir  all  its  lofty  central  ridge  by  a  road  which  <rives  radiant  views  on 
either  side,  over  the  bay  and  Us  islands. 

Popham  Beach  extends  from  the  mouth  of  the  great  Kennebec 
River  for  a  good  league,  to  where  Morse's  River  enters  the  sea.  at.  low 
tide  a  broad  and  linn  expanse  of  sand,  affording  a  capital  carriage- 
course.  and  at  high  tide  overswept  by  line  after  line  of  roaring 
breakers.  The  seaward  view  includes  Cape  Small  Point,  the  warder  of 


128 

Casco  Bay;  Seguin  Island,  with  its  lonely  light-house,  and  several 
neighboring  islets  ;  the  openings  of  the  Kennebec,  continually  traversed 
by  the  shipping  of  Bath  and  Gardiner  and  other  ports,  their  white 
sails  flashing  in  the  light ;  and  the  historic  hills  of  Georgetown,  won 
from  the  red  men  by  the  life-blood  of  many  a  gallant  Englishman. 

Atkins's  Bay,  just  to  the  northward,  nearly  three  miles  long,  affords 
the  best  of  facilities  for  still-water  boating  and  bathing,  and  is  over- 
looked by  the  ponderous  rocks  of  Cox's  Head,  whose  ancient  fortifica- 
tions are  now  buried  in  ruins  and  overgrown  by  the  flowers  of  the  field. 
There  arc  excursions  in  every  direction,  including  the  magnificent  sail 
to  Seguin,  the  weekly  steamboat  trip  around  to  Boothbay  and  Wiscas- 
set,  the  short  row  to  Cox's  Head,  the  three-mile  voyage  to  Fond  Island 
and  its  light-house,  and  the  trip  to  Fox  Island,  with  its  long  bar  reach- 
ing to  the  mainland. 

People  who  want  to  visit  Popham  Beach  go  to  Bath  by  rail,  and 
there  take  the  little  steamboat  that  runs  down  the  Kennebec  semi- 
daily.  The  hotels  at  Popham  are  the  Ocean-View  and  Eureka,  the 
former  on  a  cool  bluff  one  hundred  feet  high,  and  the  other  down  near 
Fort  Popham,  an  unfinished  fortress,  on  Huunewell's  Point.  The  true 
mouth  of  the  Kennebec  lies  between  this  sandy  cape  and  Stage  Island ; 
and  the  great  river,  the  outlet  of  Moosehead  Lake  and  scores  of  other 
lonely  lakelets  in  the  forests  of  Northern  Maine,  is  here  compressed 
into  a  channel  of  less  than  a  half-mile  in  width.  So  numerous  are  the 
rocks  and  islets  off  shore  here,  that  mariners  do  not  consider  them- 
selves out  of  the  Kennebec  until  they  have  passed  Seguin. 

Around  this  lovely  region  of  blue  bays  and  romantic  headlands  and 
silver-sanded  beaches  hangs  the  imperishable  glamour  of  history  and 
poetry  and  tradition.  It  was  in  the  summer  of  1(307  that  Raleigh  Gil- 
bert and  George  Popham  sailed  away  from  English  Plymouth,  with  a 
hundred  sturdy  West-of-England  men  (besides  the  mariners)  on  two 
vessels,  the  Gift  of  God  and  the  Diary  and  John,  well-laden  also  witli 
ordnance  and  provisions.  After  touching  at  Monhegan  and  Stage 
Island,  they  founded  their  plantation  not  far  from  HunneweH's  Point, 
and  erected  a  church  and  fifty  huts,  and  also  a  strong  defence,  which 
they  called  Fort  St.  George.  Gathered  around  their  chaplain,  the  little 
band  recited  the  services  of  the  Church  of  England,  and  laid  the 
foundations  of  what  they  hoped  might  become  a  powerful  new  Anglo- 
Catholic  state.  If  Miles  Standish  had  been  up  here,  things  might  have 
gone  better ;  but  the  fort  was  blown  up  by  the  Indians  (who  them- 
selves also  went  up  with  it),  the  provisions  gave  out,  Popham  died, 
and  so  after  a  few  months  of  what  they  were  pleased  to  call  <:  nothing 
but  extreme  extremity.''  the  easy-going  Episcopalian  colonists  gave  up 
their  attempt  and  returned  disconsolate  to  ••  Merrie  England." 


129 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


BOOTHBflY. 


A     ClIAKMING     VOYAGE.  — AlM.'OWSIC.  —  WKS'I  TOUT.  —  HELL     G.YTE.  — 

FIVE    ISLANDS. — BOOTIIUAY.  —  ScjniuiEL  ISLAND.  —  AN    Aitciu- 

PELAGO     OF     SrMMEII     DELIGHTS. 

THE  voyage  from  Bath  to  Boothbay  has  called  fortli  the  rapturous 
praises  of  many  world-wide  travellers,  on  account  of  the  beauty 
of  its  scenery,  and  the  many  piquant  problems  and  surprises  of 
its  navigation.  Through  these  live  leagues  of  romantic  inland 
passages,  comfortable  steamboats  run  three  or  four  times  daily,  in 
about  two  hours.  The  first  stage  of  the  voyage  leads  down  the  swift 
Kennebec,  one  of  the  noblest  of  New-England  rivers,  and  traversed 
perpetually  by  peaceful  fleets  of  coasting-vessels.  In  about  a  mile  the 
great  river  is  left,  and  our  boat  passes  through  Arrowsic  Bridge,  join- 
ing the  long  island  town  of  Arrowsic  to  the  mainland  town  of  Wool- 
wich. A  mile  and  a  half  beyond  the  bridge  is  Upper  Hell-gate,  where 
the  steamer  pushes  her  way,  apparently  with  difficulty,  through  a  long 
series  of  whirlpools  and  boiling  waters.  On  the  right  extends  Arrow- 
sic,  a  town  of  twenty  thousand  acres  (largely  salt-marsh)  and  two 
hundred  and  lifty  inhabitants,  whose  ancient  history  is  as  full  of 
tragedy  as  that  of  any  village  of  the  Scottish  borders  or  the  Hhine- 
land.  In  a  single  night,  when  the  Indians  stormed  the  fort  under  the 
cover  of  darkness,  two-score  persons  suite  red  death  inside  the  ram- 
parts, and  lifty  houses  were  burned  outside.  And  when,  many  days 
later,  a  detachment  of  Provincial  soldiers  was  landed  here  from  the 
tleet,  to  bury  the  dead,  they  marched  square  into  an  ambush,  and  were 
well  nigh  exterminated. 

A  mile  or  so  below  Upper  Hell-gate  brings  1  he  boat  to  Hockomock 
Point,  a  line  headland  which  commemorates  ;i  singular  Indian  tradition. 
The  course  is  laid  thence  across  Ilockomock  Bay.  a  beam  i  fill  land- 
locked basin  of  sail-water,  with  several  islets  dotting  its  a/.nre  bosom, 
and  the  hills  of  Georgetown  away  down  on  the  ritrht.  Across  from 
Hockomock  Point,  on  the  east,  is  Phipps  Point,  in  the  town  where  Sir 
William  Phipps  was  born,  and  where  for  years,  an  uncon^idered  lad, 
he  tended  sheep  on  the  rockv  hills.  Loni;-  afterward,  lie  found  the 
ancient  sunken  wreck  of  a  Spanish  galleon,  near  the  Bahamas,  and  re- 
covered from  it  bars  of  i^old  and  packets  of  jewels,  to  the  value  of  a 
million  and  a  half  of  dollars.  So  En^l-md's  kimr  made  him  -i  kn'm'ht, 


130 

and  gave  him  great  wealth,  and  the  governorship  of  Massachusetts, 
and  the  chief  military  command  of  the  glorious  expedition  against  the 
French  at  Port  Royal. 

After  the  brief  stop  at  Westport  Upper  Landing,  the  boat  rushes 
gallantly  through  the  Lower  Hell-gate ;  touches  at  another  point  in  the 
long-drawn  island-town  of  Westport ;  crosses  to  Riggsville.  on  the 
Georgetown  shore :  traverses  another  narrow  strait ;  and  emerges  on 
the  beautiful  Sheepscot  River,  a  bay-like  expanse,  with  Wiscasset  on 
its  distant  north  shore,  hidden  by  many  islands.  Another  stop  is  made 
at  Five  Islands,  the  site  of  two  or  three  co-operative  summer-colonies 
from  down  Boston  way.  From  these  little  commonwealths  the  boat 
runs  across  the  openings  of  the  Sheepscot.  with  the  wide  bright  sea 
close  on  the  right,  and  then  dodges  through  the  long  and  narrow  strait, 
overhung  witli  trees  and  faced  with  rocks,  between  Oak  Point  and  the 
island  of  Southport.  After  emerging  from  this  labyrinth,  the  vessel 
enters  Boothbay  Harbor. 

The  gray  old  fishing-village  of  Boothbay  lies  along  the  rocky  hills 
at  the  head  of  one  of  the  finest  harbors  on  the  Yankee  coast,  where 
sometimes  three  or  four  hundred  sail  of  fishing-vessels  find  shelter. 
Ship-building  and  the  deep-sea  fisheries  were  for  many  years  the  sup- 
ports of  this  maritime  people,  whose  vessels  visited  every  American 
Atlantic  port.  Afterwards,  the  porgy-rtshery  become  an  important 
industry,  and  the  effluvia  from  the  factories  dismayed  all  the  surround- 
ing country.  But  the  porgies  finally  disappeared,  and  the  last  of  the 
factories  lias  now  vanished  from  the  scene.  ( >ne  of  the  chief  indus- 
tries at  present  is  the  preservation  and  shipment  of  ice.  made  in  the 
clear  ponds  near  by  :  and  sometimes  six  or  eight  three-masters  arc  seen 
here  at  once,  filling  the  inner  harbor  from  shore  to  shore,  and  storing 
away  thousands  of  tons  of  ice. 

Squirrel  Island  is  the  summer-metropolis  of  all  these  bays  and 
fiords  and  archipelagoes,  with  its  hundred  cottages,  its  chapel,  and 
hotel.  Here.  also,  is  Sawyer's  Island,  with  its  little  hotel,  up  in  the 
Sheepscot  River:  Fisherman's  Island,  two  miles  outside  of  Squirrel, 
owned  by  Hon.  Eugene  Hale  and  a  company  of  capitalists:  Ram  Island, 
where  the  United  States  has  recently  built  a  light-house,  showing  at 
night  white  and  red  lines  of  light  la  novelty  on  American  coasts); 
Capitol  Island,  having  a  small  hotel  and  a  score  of  cottaires:  the  Isle 
of  Springs  nhe  old  Swett's  Island),  in  Sheepscot  River,  with  hotel 
and  cottages  of  Lewiston  and  Augusta  families:  Mouse  Island,  its 
hotel  embanked  in  evergreen  woods  :  ( 'hristmas  (formerly  Inner  Heron) 
Island,  developed  as  a  summer-resort  by  families  from  Greenfield. 
Mass.:  Spruce  Point,  with  its  new  summer-streets  and  cottage-lots: 
Linekin.  rejoicing  in  far-viewing  hotels  and  boarding-houses;  East 
Boothbay.  with  the  Boothbay  Medicinal  Sprinir:  Christmas  Cove,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Damariscotta.  and  overlooking  Pemaquid  and  Mon- 
hegan :  Ocean  Point,  with  its  hotel  and  pier:  and  Cape  Newagen.  with 
it-  quaint  old  hamlet  of  -nuir  cabins.  lobster-pots,  and  fishermen. 


131 


CHAPTER    XX. 


PEHOBSCOT  BRY. 


THE  WESTERN  ^EGKAX.  —  A  BATTLE-HAUNTED  BAY.  —  CAMDEX.  — 
MorxT  MEOTNTICOOK.  — Bi:.\rniuL  VILLAS.  —  FORT  POINT.  — 
OASTIXE.  —  DICE'S  HEAD. 

NO  visitor  to  tin-  northern  coast  should  omit  a  trip  to  Pcnobscot 
Bay,  wliicli  Sylvester  Baxter  praises  as  ••  one  of  the  most  beau- 
tiful spots  ill  the  New  World,  where  a  noble  landscape  is 
blessed  with  one  of  the  most,  equable  climates  that  a  Xew- 
Fugland  summer  can  know." 

Kockland,  at  the  seaward  side  of  the  bay.  is  reached  from  Portland 
in  four  hours,  by  way  of  Brunswick  and  Bath:  Belfast,  higher  up  in 
the  bay,  is  also  the  terminus  of  a  railway  diverging  from  the  Portland- 
Bangor  route.  During  the  season,  steamboats  traverse  the  bay  in 
i- very  direction,  visiting  its  different  ports. 

Penobscot  Bay,  that  beautiful  .Egean  Sea  of  the  Western  World, 
attbrds  a  thousand  glad  surprises  to  the  intelligent  tourist,  and  shows 
forth  every  variety  of  attractive  scenery,  from  the  ripple-lined  margins 
of  sandy  beaches,  to  the  bleak  heights  of  cloud-wrapped  mountains. 
The  broad  estuary  through  which  the  river  seeks  the  sea  i-  gemmed 
by  hundreds  of  islands,  from  merest  bits  of  barren  rock,  hardly  large 
enough  for  a  crow's  nest,  irp  to  mimic  continents,  each  making  a  town- 
ship, with  woods,  lakes,  villages,  and  hundreds  of  inhabitants.  Some- 
times the  islands  clo'  .ip  into  apparently  ir..»roken  masses,  penetrated 
by  winding  lanes  of  blue  water:  and  elsewhere  wide  sounds  separate 
the  groups,  and  give  a  irood  sea-way  for  cruising  yachts.  And  over 
all  this  kaleidoscopic  region  of  wedded  land  and  sea  is  spread  a  ble--- 
ing  of  pure,  crisp,  and  bracing  marine  air.  full  of  tonic  and  strength- 
ening qualities. 

Nor  may  we  forget  the  unfading  charm  of  legend  and  historv  cling- 
ing about  tin-  archipelago,  and  which  trebles  its  interest  to  niunv 
traveller-.  How  many  tieels  have  traversed  these  a/.ure  labyrinth-, 
since  Nor-emaii  and  Hollander.  Frenchman  and  Briton  tir-t  explored 
them!  How  many  roarinir  broad-ides.  French.  Virginian.  F.n^Ii-li. 
American,  have  thundered  across  the  tides,  durinir  the  hot  horror-  of 
naval  battles  up  the  bay!  How  the  legend-  of  IVnta^ol-t  ;md  <  >\\  1'- 
Head  and  Fort  Pownr.il.  of  Castine  and  MOLTI:  Meirone  and  .Madocka- 
wando,  have  furnished  themes  for  poet-  for  generations!  The  i-lamN 


134 

Avorks.  But  despite  all  this  lavishing  of  torches  and  gunpOAvder,  and 
a  century  and  a  quarter  of  siege  by  Time,  enough  of  Fort  Pownall  still 
remains  to  make  a  pleasant  objective  point  for  a  ramble,  ending  by  a 
dreamy  study  of  the  bay  through  the  grassy  embrasures,  and  past  the 
sturdy  little  light-house,  Avhosc  white  tower  crowns  the  point. 

People  Avho  wish  to  try  for  themselves  the  attractions  of  Fort  Point 
may  take  the  railroad  from  Boston  to  Ilockland,  Belfast,  or  Banger, 
from  either  of  Avhich  places  daily  steamboats  run  to  the  point.  The 
A'oyage  from  Ilockland  reveals  much  of  the  finest  scenery  of  Penobscot 
Bay ;  and  that  from  Bangor  is  equally  rich  in  unfolding  the  panorama 
of  the  great  Penobscot  River.  Belfast  is  within  twelve  miles  of  the 
point. 

Castine,  for  many  years  the  Gibraltar  of  these  eastern  seas,  and 
afterwards  their  Alsace-Lorraine,  garrisoned  by  alien  and  hostile 
armies,  has  of  late  grown  rapidly  in  favor  as  a  summer-resort,  abound- 
ing in  hops  and  tennis-matches,  buckboards  and  yachts,  Avhereby  the 
ancient  quietude  and  provincial  seclusion  of  the  place  have  to  a  large 
extent  passed  away.  It  is  one  of  the  prettiest  villages  in  Maine,  built 
along  the  Bagaduce  River  and  the  bay,  with  long-disused  wharves,  and 
elm-lined  streets  bordered  by  quaint  colonial  houses,  white  and  neat, 
and  adorned  with  many  a  choice;  bit  of  the  skilful  and  artistic  car- 
pentry of  the  old  time.  In  Ihc  remote  days  Avhen  "  The  Columbian 
Informer"  was  the  local  newspaper,  and  the  illustrious  Talleyrand 
sojourned  here,  and  the  wharves  were  crowded  with  square-rigged 
vessels,  the  people  used  the  sea  as  their  highway,  with  Venetian  apti- 
tude and  enthusiasm.  Some  one  has  called  Castine  -a  bit  of  Italy  in 
America;"  and  another  student  of  analogies  entitles  it  "the  St.  Augus- 
tine of  the  Xorth." 

Dice's  Head,  on  one  side  of  the  harbor,  with  its  light-house  and 
groves  and  cliffs,  lias  been  laid  out  as  a  cottage-colony,  with  delightful 
Avoodland  roads  and  frequent  vistas  of  sun-lit  waves.  From  the 
observatory  above  the  steamboat  wharf,  you  can  look  out  over  the 
great  bay  to  Fort.  Point  and  Stockton  and  Searsport  and  Belfast  and 
the  Camden  mountains,  and  to  the  nearer  Blue  Hill. 

Amid  these  scenes  we  may  read  Whit  tier's  "  Mogg  Megone "  and 
'•St.  John."  and  Longfellow's  "The  Baron  of  St.  Caslin."  or  Noah 
Brooks's  illustrated  descriptive!  article  in  the  "Century  Magazine''  for 
I.ss2.  and  the  little  village  will  assume  a  new  heroic  aspect,  adding  a 
charm  to  every  ramble  and  excursion  in  this  historic  and  romantic 
region.  Dreaming  among  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  fortifications,  we 
may  see  the  light  shallops  of  Plymouth  again  anchoring  in  the  harbor. 
and  Isaac  Allerton  building  his  trading-p  ><t.  away  back  in  lili'ii:  and 
D'Aulncy's  fleet  sailing  in.  under  orders  from  Cardinal  Richelieu,  and 
ousting  the  Pilgrim  colonists;  and  (iirling's  Massachusetts  war-ships 
vainly  cannonading  the  new  French  fortress  of  IVntagoet  ;  and  the 
licet  of  the  States-General  of  Holland  forcing  the  French  Hag  to  flutter 


1 :>,.-> 

down;  and  the  adventurous  Pyreiiean  noble,  the  Baron  do  St.  Castin, 
dwelling  here  with  his  dusky  bride,  the  daughter  of  the  great  Indian 
chieftain,  Madockawando ;  and  Sir  Kdninnd  Andros  sailing  up  in  the 
Rose  frigate,  and  destroying  the  place;  and  the  occupation  of  tiie  pen- 
insula by  the  New-Englanders  in  17iio;  and  its  conquest  by  the  British 
in  1770;  and  the  long,  dreary  American  siege,  with  Hues  of  circnmvalla- 
tion  and  sanguinary  assaults,  and  the  final  shattering  of  their  lleet  by 
.1  British  s([uadron;  and  the  occupation  by  a  strong  garrison  of  red- 
coats for  four  long  years;  and  the  return  of  the  Continentals  when  the 
war  ended ;  and  a  subsequent  conquest  by  four  thousand  British  troops 
in  the  War  of  Isl'J.  Fragments  may  be  traced  of  the  old  fortress  of 
St.  Castin,  the  royalist  Fort  (ieorge.  the  American  Fort  Madison,  and 
the  battery  erected  during  the  recent  Secession  War.  And  in  these 
trenches  the  first  lessons  of  war  were  given  to  that  great  hero  of  later 
years.  Sir  John  Moon-,  whose  mournful  burial  on  the  walls  of  Corunna 
terminated  a  life  of  warfare  in  America.  Ireland.  Holland,  Egypt,  and 
Spain,  and  was  celebrated  in  the  poem  beginning: 

"  Xot  a  drum  wan  heard,  not  a  funeral  note, 
As  liis  c'orsu  to  the  ramparts  we  hurried." 

The  way  to  reach  Castine  is  by  railroad  to  Rocklaud  or  Belfast  or 
Bangor.  and  then  a  short  and  delightful  steamboat  journey  across  the 
hay.  or  it  may  also  be  visited  in  going  to  or  returning  from  Mount 
Desert,  bv  steamboat  from  Portland. 


Around  Cape  Hosier,  and  beyond  the  islanded  ina/.es  of  the  Kgg- 
cmoggin  Reach,  opens  the  beautiful  Blue-Hill  Bay  with  the  noble 
eminence  of  Blue  Hill  on  one  side  and  the  huge  Western  .Mountain  on 
Mount  Desert  on  the  other.  The  usual  route  hither  is  by  steamboat 
from  Portland  or  lioekland.  across  t)u.  picturesque  Penobscot  Bay. 
touching  at  various  little  ports  and  islamls.  Blue-Hill  village  is  thus 
described  by  an  old-time  poet  : 


The  region  i-  celebrated  for  it-  granite-quarries;  and  silver  and  cop- 
per used  to  lie  mined  in  the  viciniu.  !t  is  a  charmiiiir  count ry .  \\ith 
pure  and  healt  \\-\z\\  \\\*j;  air.  the  breath  of  the  >ea.  tempered  to  mildiie— 
by  it-  pa-sauv  over  league-  of  i-laiid-  and  liay-.  lluinlred-  of  city- 
|)eople  -pend  their  -uiiimei'-  iii  the  farm  and  \  iilaue  boarilinii'-hoii-e-. 
eiijo\ini.r  and  appreciatinir  the  nnu-ual  vieu-  of  blue  \\ater  and  hiirh 
mountain-  in  \\hich  tlie  neiijhborliood  i-  so  rich. 


13G 


OTTKU  (I. IFF,    MT.   DKSEKT. 


137 


CHAPTER    XXI. 


DESERT. 


BAH  IlAitiioit. — SKAL  HAUIIOI:. —  NORTH-EAST  HAIIHOU  AND  Sorrn- 
WKST  II.Yitiioi:.  — TIIK  COAST  TO  TIIK  EASTWAKD. — TIIK  NOIJWAY 
OF  A.MKiiiCA.  —  Kn, I.IVAN.  —  SOKUKNTO.  —  WIXTKU  Il.uinoK.  — 
MACHIAS. —  CTTLKK. 

THE  crown  and  culmination  of  luxury  in  travelling  is  found  in  the 
celebrated  express-trains,  running  twice'  daily,   except  Sunday, 
from  Boston,  by  Portland  and  lianjjor,  to  Mount-Desert  Ferry, 
a  distance  of  two  hundred  and  ninety-live  miles,  in  little  over 
nine  hours.     From  the.  Ferry,  a  charming  and  invigorating  steamboat 
voyage  of  eiyht  miles,  down  the  land-locked  Frenchman's  Bay,  leads 
to  Bar  Harbor,  the  capital  of  Mount  Desert. 

The  crown  of  all  the  scenery  of  this  unrivalled  coast  is  found  at 
Mount  Desert,  that  little  Switzerland  atloat.  the  pride  and  delight  of 
the  northern  seas.  The  statistical  facts  of  Mount  Desert  are  that  it 
covers  one  hundred  square  mill's,  and  is  divided  into  three  towns 
(Tremont.  Mount  Desert,  and  Eden),  with  about  live  thousand  perma- 
nent inhabitants,  many  of  whom  are  en^aired  in  the  fisheries.  It  was 
explored  by  Hendrick  Hudson's  Dutch  mariners  and  Champlaiif s 
Frenchmen  early  in  the  seventeenth  century;  and  settled  by  Massa- 
chusetts fishermen  about  the  year  1  "<!<).  Forty  years  airo.  a  few  artists 
and  other  summer-wanderers  disco\  ered  the  beautiful  scenery  of  the 
region,  and  since  their  reports  went  abroad,  the  island  has  developed 
into  one  of  the  most  famous  of  American  watering-places.  On  the 
south  open-  the  illimitable  sea.  broken  onlv  by  the  pieture-qiie  Placen- 
tia  I-le-  and  Cranberry  I.-les;  Blue-Hill  Bay  and  lYuob-cot  Bay  are  on 
the  \\est,  overlooked  by  noble  highland-,  and  dotted  with  ;<n  archipel- 
ago of  islet-;;  on  the  north  it  is  cut  oil'  from  the  mainland  by  a  narrow 
strait,  bridired  for  a  carriage-mad:  and  on  the  ea-t  open-  the  liroad 
and  lieantiful  l-'i'ein-limau's  Bay.  surrounded  with  >uiiimer-reM>rt<.  and 
o|»eniim  into  the  Atlantic  l»y  Schooilic  Point.  In  ihNirroupof  ^rcat 
lioriU  of  the  northern  >ea  repose<  t he  beaiiMl'ul  inland,  \vith  it>  laki1^ 
and  mountain--  and  elitl's.  and  wonderful  Tyrole^e  -cenery.  It  ha-  half 
a  doy.c-u  little  ports,  connected  by  steamboat^  running:  >e\-eral  tinii'- 
daily.  and  NO  making  it  ea^y  for  >ummer-day  explorer-  to  make  their 
adventurous  outinir-.  And  plea-ant  ro;id-  al-o  join  i  he-e  hamlet-. 
traver-iuir  wild  mountaiu-pa--e-.  and  foilowinu-  the  -hore-  of  limpid 


138 

highland  lakes.  The  summer-capital  of  the  island  is  Bar  Harbor,  on 
the  west  shore  of  Frenchman's  Bay,  down  near  the  sea,  and  looking 
out  on  a  group  of  high  wooded  islets,  above  whose  line  the  bay 
opens  away  into  the  mainland  like  some  noble  lake,  overlooked  by  the 
blue  mountains  of  Gouldsbo /o'.  At  Bar  Harbor  there  are  a  score  of 
immense  hotels,  from  the  aristocratic  caravansaries  on  the  principal 
avenues,  down  to  the  humble  boarding-houses  of  the  back  streets.  On 
either  side  for  miles  the  shore  is  lined  with  the  beautiful  cottages  and 
estates  of  Whitneys  and  Searscs  and  Derbys,  Fabians  and  Musgraves 
and  Amorys,  and  other  well-known  metropolitan  families,  who  spend 
long  seasons  here.  The  harbor  is  filled  with  yachts  and  pleasure- 
vessels  throughout  the  season;  and  is  visited  daily  by  the  steamers  for 
and  from  the  other  ports  of  the  island  and  the  bay.  A  short  ride  from 
Bar  Harbor  is  Eagle  Lake,  from  whose  shore  a  steam-railway  ascends 
to  the  top  of  (ireen  Mountain,  whence  there  is  an  unexcelled  view  of 
the  wide  blue  sea,  and  of  the  fiords  of  Maine. 


('(JTTAliK    AT    1IAU    HAKIiOi:. 

Of  the  many  other  places  of  interest  about  Bar  Harbor. —  of  Hull's 
( 'ove  and  the  Ovens.  Schooner  Head,  and  (rival  Head.  Newport  Moun- 
tain and  Kclio  Notch. —  yon  may  read  in  Chisholm's  compact  ••  Mount- 
Desert  (.Hide." 

A  few  miles  south  of  liar  Harbor,  facing  the  sea.  is  the  open  cove 
of  Seal  Harbor,  with  its  modern  summer-hotels  and  cottages;  and  two 
or  three  miles  beyond,  around  on  the  south  side  of  .Mount  Desert. 
North-east  Harbor  cuts  into  the  rocky  shore,  with  another  group  of 
hotels  and  artistic  cottages,  favored  by  the  most  beautiful  views  of 
sea  and  shore,  and  saturated  witli  the  most  tonic  and  invigorating  air. 
.IiM  to  the  west  i<  the  month  of  Somes  Sound,  that  magnificent  salt- 
water fiord  which  makes  up  for  seven  miles  through  the  mountains,  to 
the  quiet  village  of  Somesville.  The  next  port  on  tliis  joyous  coast, 
in  -iirht  from  .\orth-ea~-t.  is  South-west  Harbor,  an  old-time  lishing- 
hanilei.  now  so  favorite  a  place  for  summer-rest  that  half  a  dozen 


140 

spacious  hotels  find  profit,  and  arc  strung  along  the  harbor-side  for 
nearly  a  league,  from  the  Claremont  and  Island,  near  the  steamboat 
wharf,  to  the  Ocean  and  Stanley,  across  the  cove.  In  this  delightful 
region  there  are  scores  of  objective  points  for  excursions, —  the  Sea- 
wall, Echo  Lake,  Bass  Harbor,  Fernald's  Point,  Beech  Mountain,  and 
other  inland  drives,  and  the  voyages  up  Somes  Sound  or  across  the 
straits  to  the  Cranberry  Isles,  populated  by  several  hundred  fishermen, 
and  abounding  in  stories  of  the  sea.  On  the  west  shore  of  Mount 
Desert,  toward  Penobscot  and  Blue-Hill  Bays,  several  small  hamlets 
nestle  at  the  heads  of  the  coves ;  and  among  these  are  the  summer- 
visited  localities  of  Pretty  Marsh  and  High  Head. 

It  would  require  a  volume  (and  a  very  interesting  one,  too)  to 
describe  the  summer-resorts  that  surround  Frenchman's  Bay,  on  the 
mainland,  favored  with  views  of  the  Mount-Desert  mountains  much 
finer  than  those  enjoyed  by  people  on  the  Island.  Among  these  modern 
resorts  are  Lamoine ;  the  Bluffs,  at  the  terminus  of  the  railway;  Sulli- 
van; Sorrento,  and  Winter  Harbor,  broad  off  across  the  bay  from  Bar 
Harbor,  highly  aristocratic  cottage-colonies,  with  magnificent  scenery. 

To  the  eastward  of  Mount  Desert  extends  a  reach  of  wild  coast, 
abounding  in  the  most  beautiful  and  unusual  forms  of  scenery.  "  The 
Norway  of  America"  some  one  has  called  it,  but  a  better  term  is  "  the 
coast  01  Maine,"  a  phrase  recognized  all  the  world  over  as  synonymous 
with  scenic  splendor.  On  this  shore  lie  the  twelve  towns  of  Goulds- 
borough.  Steuben,  Millbridge,  Harrington,  Addison,  Jonesport,  Jones- 
borough,  Machias,  Machiasport,  Cutler,  Trescott.  and  Lubec.  They 
are  penetrated  deeply,  and  separated  from  one  another,  by  glorious 
fiords  of  the  sea,  whose  sapphire-blue  is  broken  by  many  a  promontory 
of  emerald.  And  outside,  exposed  to  the  immemorial  hammering  of 
the  Atlantic,  are  hundreds  of  cufmits  pcrdns  of  islands,  as  lonely  now 
as  when  the  Norse  vikings  first  sailed  by  them,  before  the  days  of  tin- 
Crusades.  This  amphibious  country  is  an  unknown  land  to  the  people 
of  the  cities,  for  it  is  traversed  only  by  uncomfortable  stage-coaches, 
or  touched  at  its  ports  by  small  steamboats.  The  Revolutionary  hi:>- 
tory  and  modern  mercantile  activity  of  Machias  may  arouse  a  languid 
interest,  as  one  looks  across  the  glorious  expanse  of  Englishman's 
Bay:  and  the  Machiasport  stage  will  take  you  out  along  the  lonely 
forest-roads  to  Cutler,  with  its  charming  harbor-scenery  and  ocean-air, 
its  summer-hotel  and  cottages. 


141 


r 


A   T.EAF    ntOM    SKETCH-BOOK,    SIOTNT    DKPEUT. 


143 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

PASSflJVIRQUODDY  BflY. 

THK  FKOXTIKI:  OF  TIIK  RKITIU.IC. — ST.  AM>I:K\VS. — THK  Au;oN<jnx. 
—  A  I'KIIKKCT  YACII  nN(;-(iuou.M>. — CAMPOUKI.LO  AND  (Jit.vM 
MI.NAN. — TIIK  RKMOTKK  EASTKKN  COAST. 

HWAY  oil' on  the  eastern  run  of  the  I'uit.ed  States  the  bright  water.* 
of   Passamaqiioddy   May  mark  the  division  between  Yankeelanc 
and  the  Dominion  of  Canada.     Some  of  its  islands  rest  undei 
the  Stars  and  Stripes;   and  others  bear  up  the  red  I'nion  Jack 
until  the  coining  day  when  the  last  imperial  garrison-flag  is  peacefully 
furled  and   borne   back   to   dear  old   Mother   England,   and    the  great 
Republic  becomes  continental. 

St.  Andrews,  the  summer-metropolis  of  these  waters,  is  a  quaint 
little  Canadian  port,  standing  on  a  peninsula  which  projects  almost 
into  the  middle  of  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  with  beautiful  water-view- 
all  around,  and  a  series  of  interesting  drives  inland,  over  remarkabh 
good  roads.  It  is  designed  by  nature  to  be  a  place  for  summer-homes. 
Close  to  the  water  in  Indian-Point  I 'ark  (.">0  feet  above  sea-level),  01 
scattered  along  the  rising  ridge  of  Barrack  Hill  (l.">i>  feet  high;,  unti 
reaching  the  amphitheatre  of  encircling  hills  (220  to  2.">0  feet  above 
tide-water)  which  stretch  across  the  peninsula  from  l'assamaquodd\ 
Bayou  the  east  to  the  St.  Croix  River  on  the  west,  are  presented  build- 
ing-sites adapted  to  meet  themo>t  diversified  tastes.  St.  Andrews  b 
the  great  summer-capital  of  the  lovely  I'assamaquoddy-Bay  region,  am' 
gives  easy  access  to  Campobello.  East  port.  Lnbec.  (irand  Menan.  St. 
(leorire.  and  other  interesting  points  on  the  eastern  frontier  of  tin 
I'nited  States. 

The  new  Algonquin  Hotel  is  located  on  an  eminence  l.'iu  feet  abovi 
sea-level,  and  commands  a  most  extensive  view  in  all  direct  ions. 

The  inner  reaches  of  the  bay  atlbrd  a  remarkably  tine  yacht  inir 
ground  of  many  square  miles,  with  great  unbroken  expanse-,  of  deej 
water,  and  very  pictiirc>(|iie  and  beautiful  shore*.  Aloiiir  the  outei 
front  of  this  salt-water  lake  extends  a  lonir  line  of  rocky  KlamN 
defendinir  it  from  the  wilder  sea-<  and  rouii'iier  ^nrire<  outride,  am 
forming  a  l>arrier  which  etVectnally  check<  the  landward  advance  of  tin 
sea-fou>.  I-'or  days  toiietiicr.  you  may  >it  on  the  lofty  veranda*  of  tin 
Algonquin,  and  look  across  league*  of  blue  water  dancimr  in  the  sun- 


144 

ight,  to  the  place  where  the  Bay-of-Funcly  fog-hank  broods  outside 
lie  islands,  unable  to  cross  their  high  barrier. 

All  this  beautiful  region  is  filled  with  interesting  historical  associa- 
ions,  from  the  far-remote  days  when  the  Huguenot  colony  sent  out  by 
lenry  of  Navarre  settled  on  Neutral  Island  (in  1004)  to  the  modern 
;arrisoning  of  the  frontier  by  the  flower  of  the  British  army  in  18G2, 
ml  the  later  days  of  the  Fenian  excitement,  when  Gen.  Meade  held 
lastport  with  United-States  regulars,  and  the  redcoats  swarmed  in  the 
tracts  of  St.  Andrews  and  St.  Stephen. 

Back  among  the  hills,  in  the  lonely  inland  waters  towards  Lake 
Jtopia  and  Chamcook  Lake,  there  is  famous  fishing ;  and  from  the 
iigh  summit  of  Chamcook  Mountain  you  may  overlook  the  wide  Passa- 


nai|iiod(ly  country,  and  the  St.  f'roix  Valley,  and  the  dim  blue  coast- 
iuc  of  Nova  Scot  in. 

St.  .\udiv\vs  may  be  reached  l»y  railroad  from  IJoston  by  I'ortlaud. 
Jangor.  and  McAdam  Junction;  or  liy  steamboat  from  Portland  via 
•Jastport  ami  ( 'alais. 

Farther  down  the  hay  are  the  quaint  old  American  ports  of  Kast- 
iort  and  Lubec.  each  with  considerable  accommodations  and  atlrac- 
ioiis  for  summer-visitors.  Kastport  is  a  village  of  three  thousand 
nd  M-veii  hundred  inhabitants,  on  .Moose  Island,  from  whox-  highest 
>oint  the  abandoned  ramparts  of  Fort  Sullivan  look  down  on  the  bay. 
rhree-quarters  of  a  century  airo.  a  British  fleet  of  ten  battle-ships 
.ailed  into  the  little  harbor,  ami  compelled  the  garrison  to  surrender, 


145 

after  which  the  lias  °f  England  Moated  over  the  village  for  seven 
years.  A  road  runs  from  Eastport  to  the  mainland,  and  bends  aroun 
the  bay  to  the  Indian  town  on  Pleasant  Point,  inhabited  by  seven 
hundred  easy-going  aborigines. 

Lubec  may  be  reached  by  the  steam-ferry  from  Eastport,  thre 
miles  distant.  It  is  a  drowsy  marine  village,  on  a  long  promontory 
and  enjoys  the  distinction  of  being  the  easternmost  town  of  the  1'nite 
States.  Across  the  straits,  and  visited  by  hourly  steamboats  froi 
Eastport,  stretches  the  eight-mile  length  of  the  Canadian  island  o 
Campobello,  with  its  great  resort-hotels,  erected  and  maintained  b 
Boston  capitalists.  And  a  few  miles  outside,  the  openings  of  the  Ba 
of  Fundy  sweep  their  amazing  tides  around  Grand  Menan.  the  islau< 
of  purple  (Tilt's,  where  two  or  three  thousand  loyal  Canadians  d\vel 
around  the  rockv  coves. 


OF  PASSAMAQUODDY 
.       STANDREWS  M.B.' 


Kastward  of  Passama<iuoddy  Hay.  the  interesting  sea-coast  of  tit 
Maritime  Provinces  extends  for  hundreds  of  leagues,  by  the  prom 
little  city  of  St.  John,  and  the  land  of  Kvaniivline.  and  -'ray  old  Halifax 
with  its  ivdcoa!  garrison,  and  the  beautiful  liras  d'<  >r  Lakes,  to  th 
Gulf  of  St.  Laurence  and  the  lonely  shores  of  Newfoundland.  And  i< 
all  this  region  of  natural  beauty  and  historical  interest  and  -emi 
Kuropean  and  colonial  en-torn-  and  mode-  of  thought  and  action,  th 
electric  American.  *•  heir  of  all  the  anvs."  make--  hi--  uav  bv  theronti 
starting  from  the  I>o-1on  ,<  Maine  -tation  in  the  Puritan  metropoli 
of  Ma--aclm-et  ts.  \\'hat  a  \vonderful  coa-t  it  i--.  from  the  -nbiirliai 
delight-  of  Naliant  and  Suamp-coti  to  the  siininier-re-t  of  ('ape  Ann 
Hampton  and  live.  York  and  the  Me-  of  Shoals.  Portland  and  tin 


14C 

roken  shores  of  liundrecl-harborcil  Maine,  and  so  on  to  the  ruddy 
elds  of  Prince-Edward  Island,  the  moose-haunted  mountains  of  Cape 
•reton,  and  the  heroic  Moravian  missions  on  the  stormy  shores  of 
iabrador.  Whatever  else  may  betide,  this  glorious  eastern  coast  shall 
L'lnain  the  summer-park  of  America.  For  here,  in  the  wedding  of  the 
ea  with  its  fair  New  England,  myriads  of  travellers  have  found,  in  the 
nthusiastic  words  of  one  of  their  number,  -skies  that  rival  Italy's, 
tretches  of  shore  that  are  nobler  than  and  as  historic  as  England's, 
'lands  more  picturesque  than  the  Azores,  vales  sweeter  and  greener 
iian  lie  between  the  Alps,  streams  more  beautiful  and  winsome  than 
^reat  Britain's  bards  have  sung,  atmospheres  as  weird  and  dreamful  as 
lose  that  veil  Venice,  and  snow-capped  mountains  that  blend  with  the 
erv  heaven." 


147 


INDEX. 


AiramenticuH     ....  !»'.)  Chebarco  Ponds    .     .     .  r>0  !  Fortune's  Rocks    .     Ill, 

Aiiifsbury      ....   r>7,  7'J     Chelsea 1'i     Frenchman's  Bay       .     . 

Andover 1"'  Choate  I.-land    ....  lit) 

Annis(|nam ">7  Christmas  Cove      .     .     .  Mo     '•  icrrish  Island  .     .     .     . 

Appledoie ^7     Clifton ll     (iloueester 

Arroxvsic ]-".>  Collin's  Beach   ....  -">s     (iooseKocks      .     .     .     . 

Aspinqnid '.'('  < 'oncord  Point   ....     70     (iorireana 

Concordvillc       ....  (is     (Jrand  I '.each      .     .      .     . 

I airadnee i:;4  Con  way  .lunctioti       .     .  Inn     Grand  Mciiun    .     .     .     . 

1  aker's  Island  .      ...  41     Cox's  Head 1'JS     ( I  real  Chebeairne  .     .     . 

1  aid-Head  Clitf      .      .     .  (Hi  Cranberry  Isles      .     .      .  14O     I  i  reeii  Mountain     .     .     . 

I 

1  a>s  Hoeks    .      . 

I 

I 

I 


91 
50 
108 


ay  View .".7  Deer  Island         ....     "17  Harp-well 

each  P.Inff -2-2  Deer  Isle 1:;-J  Mart's  P.c.aeh  .  .  .  . 

I  el  fast 1:'.4  Deverenx 'JL>  Maverhill  .  .  .  1  On 

1  everly 4'J  Diamond  Island  .  .  .  1'j:.  Heart-break  Mill  .  .  . 

Beverly  Farms  ...  41  Dice's  Head  .  .  .  .  l.'U  Mell-(iate 

iddeiord      ,                     .110  Dover  Pdnff  .                     .     (is  Historical  Sketch  . 


.  .  r,4  Horkoin.,ck  Point 

.  .  lir,  Hop,,  [-land  .  . 

.    M.  7:.  ,-'  Iltltllii-well's  Point 

.      .      (it!      Kau'le  Lake    ...'..  l:',v 

.      .    I'J'.i      Ka-tern  Division   .     .14,100  Indian  Hill    .      .      . 

.  .  1J7  Ka-lern  Point  ....  :>4  Ipswich  .  .  . 

Ka-tport 144  Isle  an  Ilant  .  . 

.     .Ill      Kims.  The Inl  Isles  of  Shoal-   .      . 

.      .    1  f.      KiiL'lishman's  P.a\       .      .  14o 

.    4S.  ."in     lO-s.'x .V.i  .lalTivy   Point      .     . 

.      .    UK  Jewell's  1-land 

.      .    l-j:',      Kern  Park ll'J  .loppn 

.      .     '.O      Kern,    P.each       .      .      .      .11:;  .Inniper  Point    .     . 

.    ].',n      l-'i-hennan's  Heach     .      .  'Jo 


Can.-  PoriMii-e    ....  pi-i  j.'jve  I-lai;.is 

<  'ape  lln-ier        ....  I:;.',  l-'.u  I  I  'onstitntii 

Cape  Small  Point   .      .      .  127  Port    I.oyall    . 

Casco  P.ay      .      •      .      .      .  li1.  l-'ort   MeClan 

( 'a-line l:;i  !•'.  .rt   Point      .      . 

Cedar  Point  .  .  !'»;  l-'or;   Pownall     , 


148 


Lawrence      .    .    .    . 
Linckin     
Little  Boar's  Head     . 
Little  Chebeague  .     . 
Loblolly  Cove  .    .     . 

.  100     Peak's  Island    .     . 
.  130     I'enobscot  Bay 
.     75     Phillips  Beach  .     . 
.  12-")     Phipps  Point     .     . 
.    55    Pigeon  Cove      .     . 

.     .  125     Short  Beach      .     . 
.     .  131     Short  Sands      .     . 
.     .    22    Singing  Beach  .     . 
.     .  129     Somerville     .     .     . 

.    .    97 
.     .    94 

.     .    46 
.     .     16 
138 

140 

Lout;  Island 

.  125     Plum  Island       .     .  0 
.     05  :  Pocahontas  Point 

»,  63,  (54    South  Berwick 
.     .     91     South-west  Harbor 

.     .    14 

.     .  138 
.     .  130 

.  10(1  '  Pond  Island       .     . 

130 

14     Pophum  Beach 

.  127     Spurwink 

.     .  123 

145     Portland    .... 

IIS     Squirrel  Island 

.    .  130 

.     .    87 

.     17     Portland  Head  .     . 

.     .  123     Star  Island    . 

Portsmouth  .     .     . 
.  140     Pretty  Marsh     .     . 

.     .     7S     Straw's  Point    .     . 
.     .  140     Sullivan     . 

.     .    76 
140 

.    4!'     Pride's  Crossing    . 

.     .    43    Snrriage,  Agnes     . 
.     .  1K>    Swampscott       .     . 

.     .     40  ;  Thatcher's  Island 
.     .  125     Thunderbolt  Rock 
.     .130 
.     .     16     Union  Bluffs 

.     .     20 
.    19,  34 

.    55,56 
.     .    46 

98 

Manchester  .     .     .     . 

.    44    Front's  Neck     .     . 

Marblehead  .     .     .     . 

.    23 

M:irl,lehe;ul  Neck       . 
Merriinac  Iliver     .     . 
Montserrat    .     .     .     . 

.     31     Uafe's  Chasm    .     . 
.     71     Ragged  Island  .     . 
.     43     Ham  Island  .     .     . 
.  137     Kevere  Beach    .     . 

Mount  Meguntieook  . 
Mouse  Island     .     .     . 

Nahant      

13-'     Riverdale 

58 

.     .  106 
13'' 

.  130     Itivermoutli  Rocks 

.     .     74     Vaughn's  Island    . 

.     IX     Rockland       .     .  127, 
133     Kockport        .     .     . 

13  1,1:  12 

.     .     54     Wells 

100 

65   (I!)     Rowley      .... 

.     .     (13     Wells  Bay     .     .     . 

.     .  103 

Xcwburyport    .     .     . 

(1(1,  14     Rye  Beach     .     .     . 

.     82  '• 

.     50 

Weutworth,  Hotel 
.     .111      West  Manchester  . 
.   143     Westport 

.     .     82 
.     .     44 
.     .   130 

Nonnan'rt  Woe 

.     40  :  Saco      
loo     St.  Andrews 

Xortl)-ea-*t  Harbor 

13S     Salem    

.   34,  14     Whale's  Beach 

.     .     20 

13'"     Salisbury 

.     .     72     White  Head     • 

124 

.     04     Salisbury  Beach     . 

.     .     70     Willows,  The    .     . 

.     .    41 

Nubble    The 

'15     Sandy  Bay 

.     .  140 
.     .  130 

.   1  13     Sawyer's  Island     . 

.     .  130     Woolwich      .     .     . 
11(1,  123  ;  Worc'ter  &  Nashua 

.     .  127 
R.R.,  14 

.     .  123 

101      Seabrook        .     .     . 

()]<!-<  Mvhanl  ISe-u'h 

.   l-'S     Yellow  Head      .     . 

OIT'H  Inl-md                   1 

'.')    l->7     Seal  Harbor 

13S     York  Beach 

.      .     Oil 

PiiHKiimaquoddy  Bay 
Peabody  

Sheepscot  River     . 
.  143     Sherman's  Point     . 
.     3S  ,  Shoals,  Isles  of       . 

.     .  130     York  Harbor     .     . 
.     .   133 
.     .     S(i 

.     .     !)2 

HERE  AND  THERE  IN  NEW  ENGLAND 
AND  CANADA. 


AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS 


M.    F.    SWKKTSKR. 


P  A'  ( )  /-V  *.Y  /•;  f.  Y    I LLL  'S  TK  A  T  /•:  /). 


OKR   DKPAK  I'MKNT   llosrox  ^S:    MAIXK   RAI[.KOAI>. 


COPYRIGHT, 

1889. 
DANA     I.    FI. ANDERS. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.       To    THE    MOUNTAINS 13 

The  Sea-Shore  Route. —  A  Run  up  the  Kssex  Coast. —  Lower  New 
Hampshire. —  The  Wiunipesaukee  Region. —  The  Sandwich  Range. — 
The  Approach  to  North  Conway. 

II.     NORTH  CONXVAY 18 

Conway.  —  Pioneers  and  Ancient  Inns.  —  Early  Visitors.  —  Cathedral 
Woods.  —  A  Birch-Bark  Voyage.  —  The  Intervales.  —  White-Horse 
I.edge.  —  Echo  Lake.  —  Diana's  Baths. — Dundee  Drive. — Thorn  Hill. — 
Mount  Kiarsarge. —  Moat  Mountain.— Kiarsarge  Village. —  Intervale. 

III.     JACKSON 30 

Glen  Station. —  Goodrich  Falls. —  Jackson  Falls. — Wentworth  Hall. — 
Other  Hotels. — Thorn  Mountain. —  Iron  Mountain. — Carter  Notch. — 
The  Old  Settlers.— A  Group  of  Artist- Explorers. 


IV.     THK  GI.KN  HOUSE 


V.       CiORHAM 38 

The  Village.— Old  Times  in  the  Mountains.— Mount   Moriah.—  Mount 
Hayes.  —  Berlin   Falls.  —  Shellmrne   and    the   Lead-Mine  Bridge.  —  A 

Glimp-c   from    Randolph    Hill. 

VI.    Tin.  CRAWFORD  NOTCH 40 


VII.     CRAWFORD 


The  Famous  Hotel.  —  Beecher'-,  Cascades.  —  Ammonoo-uc  Lake.  — 
Mount  Willard.—  The  kii.Iey  and  Arethusa  Fall...—  Mount  Willey.— 
The  Willey  Tragedy.—  The  Paih  up  Mount  Washington. 


VIII.     FAKYAN'S 


T!ie  Fa!. van  House.  —  Mount  Deception.  —  Old-Time  Landlords.— 
The  Mount-Pleasant  I  louse.  —  The  White-Mountain  House.  —  The 
Twin-Mountain  House. 


X.    BETHLEHEM 56 

Views  from  Bethlehem  Street. — The  Tonic  Air. — Hay-Fever. — Maple- 
wood. —  Strawberry  Hill. —  Mount  Agassiz. —  Mount  Cleveland. 

XI.     FRANCONIA 60 

The  Franconia  Stories. —  The  Ancient  Iron-Works. —  The  Village. — 
Pine  Hill. —  Sugar  Hill. —  A  Mountain  Panorama. —  Easton. —  Mount 
Kinsman. —  The  Bridal-Veil  Falls. 

XII.    THE  FRANCONIA  NOTCH     .     .  62 

The  Profile  House.— "The  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains."— Profile  Lake. 
—  Echo  Lake. —  Mount  Lafayette. —  The  Flume. —  The  Pool. 

XIII.    JEFFERSON 69 

The  Grandest  View  of  the  White  Mountains. —  Israel's  River. —  Mount 
Starr  King. —  Cherry  Mountain. —  A  Feudal  Lord. —  Jefferson  High- 
lands.—  The  Path  to  the  Northern  Peaks. 


XIV.    LANCASTER 


The  Upper  Coos. —  The  Pilot  Range. —  Fair  Intervales. —  Lunenburg 
Heights. —  Mount  Prospect. —  Kilkenny. 

XV.     DIXVILLE  NOTCH 73 

Groveton  and  the  Percy  Peaks. —  The  Upper-Coos  Railroad. —  Cole- 
brook. —  Dixville. —  Errol  Dam. 

XVI.     THE  MKRRIMAC  ROUTE 75 

The  Lowell  System. — A  Run  across  Middlesex. —  The  River-Cities. 
—  Lake  Winnipesaukee  and  its  Joyous  City. 

XVII.     PLYMOUTH 79 

The  Episcopal  Chimera. -—The  Holderness  School.  —  Webster  and 
Hawthorne. —  Mount  Prospect. 

XVIII.    THE  PEMIGEWASSET  VALLEY Si 

An  Aboriginal  Jaw-Breaker. — Campton  Village. —  Mad  River's  Song. 
— West  Campton. — Thornton. — Woodstock. — The  Edge  of  the  Wilder- 
ness.— Waterville. 

XIX.    THE  ASOUAMCHUMAUKK  VALLEY 86 

A  Trail  of  Centuries. — Rumney. — John  Stark,  Trapper  and  General. 
— Wentworth.—  Warren.—  Moosilauke. 

XX.     THE  Coos  MEADOWS  88 


XXI.     A  (ii.i.Mi'SE  or  MASSACHUSETTS       92 

Sudbury  and  the  Wayside  Inn.  —  Princeton  and  Wachuselt.  —  The 
Nashua  Valley.  —  Rutland  and  Barre.  —  Belchertown.  —  Amherst. — 
Hadlcy. —  Northampton. —  Mount  Holyoke. 


CHAPTER  PACK 

XXII.     SOUTH-WESTERN  \K\V  HAMPSHIRE 97 

Amherst.  —  Milford  Springs.  —  Milforel.  —  Mont  Vernon.  —  The  Con- 
toocook  Valley. —  Peterborough. —  Dublin. —  Monadnock. —  Keene. 

XXIII.  WESTWARD  FKUM  CONCORD 102 

Hopkinton. — Warner. —  Bradford  and  its  Springs. —  Sunapee  Lake. — 
Newport. — Claremont. 

XXIV.  THE  KKARSARC.K  COUNTRY 104 

A  Bit  of  the  Merriinac. —  The  Andovers. —  Mount  Kearsarge. —  The 
Canaans. —  Mount  Cardigan. —  A  Glimpse  of  the  Connecticut. 

XXV.     THE  VERMONT  HORDKK 106 

Norwich  and  Dartmouth  College.  —  f'airlee  and  Orford.  —  The  Old 
Bridge. —  The  Coos  Country.  —  Up  the  Passumpsic. — A  Western 
Scotland. —  St.  Johnsbury  and  Newport.  —  Jay  Peak.  —  A  Raid  into 
Canada. 

XXVI.     THE  GREEN  MOUNTAINS no 

I.unenburg.  —  St.  Johnsbury.  —  Danville  Green. —  Walden.  —  Greens- 
borough.— The  Great  Railway  Bend.— The  I.amoille  Valley.— Stowe 
and  Mount  Mansfield.—  Sheldon.—  Maquam  Bay. 

XXVII.     Two  CANADA  TOWNS  i  r  •; 


XXVIII.     POLAND  SPRING 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

BIRD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  THE  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  AND  CON- 
NECTIONS   Frontispiece. 

HAMPTON  MARSHES 14 

BRIDGE  AT  SALMON  FALLS 15 

BLACK  MOUNTAIN,  FROM  MOULTONBOROUGH  BAY,  LAKE  WINNIPE- 

SAUKEE 16 

THE  LEDGES,  NORTH  CONWAY 20 

CATHEDRAL  LEDGE  AND  ECHO  LAKE,  NORTH  CONWAY 23 

DIANA'S  BATHS,  NORTH  CONWAY 25 

MOUNT  KlARSARGE,  FROM  CONWAY  MEADOWS 26 

NEAR  THE  GLEN   HOUSE.     (PF.AKODY  RIVER) 34 

GLEN-ELLIS  FALLS 36 

ENTRANCE  TO  CARTER  NOTCH  FROM  GORHAM 39 

A  LONELY  BIT  OF  MEADOW,  CRAWFORD  NOTCH 40 

VIEW  OF  ENTRANCE  TO  ALHANY  TNTERYALE 41 

THE  MOUNTAINS,  FROM  UPPER  BARTI.ETT ....  42 

A  GRAY  DAV  IN  CRAWFORD  NOTCH 43 

THROUGH  THE  NOTCH 45 

CRAWFORD  NOTCH,  FROM  ELEPHANT'S  HEAD 47 

LOOKING  EAST  FROM  CRAWFORD  HOUSE 48 

LOWER  FALLS  OF  AMMONOOSUC,  NEAR  FAP.YAN'S 51 

MOUNT-WASHINGTON  RAILWAY 54 

"OLD  MAN  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS" 63 

STAGE-ROAD,  FRANCONIA  NOTCH 64 

THE  FLUME,  FRANCONIA  NOTCH 66 

DOWN  FRANCONIA  NOTCH 67 

THE  PINNACLES,  DIXYILLE  NOTCH 74 

WOK  URN  STATION 75 

A  CAR-WINDOW  VIEW,  TYNGSHORO'  CURVE 77 

HOOKSETT  FALLS 78 

LIVERMORE  FALLS ,     .  So 

AGASSI/.  BASIN 85 

THE  Ox-Bow,   NEAR  HAYERHILI 89 

SOMERVILLE-HlGHLANDS  STATION 92 

OLD  HADI.EY 93 

OX-BoW    IN    CoNNF.fTirur    RlVEK.    FKo.M     MuUNT    \<  >N<  >TU'   K   .       .       .  94 

MOUNT    Hoi. YOKE,    FROM    HoCKANUM     FERRY <J^ 

DUHLIN   POND 99 

VIEW  ON   SUNAPEE  LAKE 103 

WILLOUGHIJY  LAKE,  WEST  BURKF.  \"T 107 

LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG,  FROM   PROSPE<  r  HILL,  NK\\I'^RI.  \"i.    .     .  io.S 


INTRODUCTION. 


FOR  two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  or  ever  since   Darby   Field  went  from 
Portsmouth  to  the  top  of  Mount  Washington,  the  "White  Mountains  of 
New  Hampshire  have  been  frequented  by  annually  larger  and  larger 
numbers  of  summer-tourists,  some   for  health,  some  for  fashion,  and 
some  because  they  like  it.     There  is  good  reason  for  this  growing  enthu- 
siasm, for  the  highlands  of  New  Hampshire  arc  rich  in  diversified  scenery, 
from  the  tender  pastoral   beauty  of  the   Saco  and  Cods  intervales,  and  the 
serene  peace  of  the  Jackson  glen  and  venerable  Frycburg,  to  the  majesty  of 
the  Presidential  Range  as  seen  from  [efferson,  or  the  sublimity  of  the  sombre 
depths  of  Tuckcrman's  Ravine.      Every  point  in  this  region  is  brought  within 
easy  reach  by  the  routes  and  connections  of  the   lioston  iV  Maine   Railroad, 
and  by  stage-lines  running  from  its  stations. 

Anthony  Trollope  was  astonished  to  find  this  region,  which  he  had  im- 
agined to  be  peopled  "  with  Mormons,  Indians,  or  black  bears.''  studded  with 
huge  hotels,  almost  as  thickly  as  they  lie  in  Switzerland.  Aside  from  a 
do/en  or  so  of  first-class  hotels,  at  S.(.oo  to  $>oo  a  day,  there  are  some 
scores  of  less  prctentiou>  houses,  and  hundreds  of  farm  boarding-houses,  at 
from  ^5.00  to  $S.co  a  week. 

It  has  also  seemed  best  to  add  to  this  account  of  White-Mountain  resorts 
reached  by  the  Hoston  tV  Maine  Railroad,  chapters  describing  certain  other 
highland  regions  on  other  divisions  of  the  company's  railroads  and  their 
immediate  connections.  Among  these  are  the  routes  to  Wachusett  and  the 
Connecticut  Yaliev,  at  Northampton;  the  Monadnock  country,  in  Southern 
New  Hampshire:  the  Kcar-argc  country,  north-west  of  ( 'oncord  :  the  Pas- 
sumpsic  countrv  ;  the  passage  of  the  Green  Mountains,  from  St.  Johnsbury 
to  Lake  t'hamplain:  a  glimpse  at  some  hill-towns  of  Maine:  and  Montreal 
and  Oiiebec,  the  natural  northern  termini  or  the  mountain-tour.  Amid  these 
various  routes  there  is  room  for  wide  choice,  and  new  excursions  tor  <iicce>- 
sive  years,  through  scenes  whos'-  novelty  cannot  fail  to  captivate. 

The  present  little  volume  is  one  of  the  three  companion-book^  i-<ned  bv 
the  Passenger  Department  if  the  Boston  iS:  Maine  Railroad,  under  the 
general  title  of  "HiKK  \\n  Tur.KK  i\  Nr.w  F.NV,IAXI>  AND  C\xvm." 
Thi<  work  is  naturallv  di\  ided  into  "ALT.  .\i.o\r.  SHMKI:."  treating  of  the 
beaches  and  inland-:  ''.\M<>\r,  Tiir.  M>  >r\  I'  \  t\s."  dealing  with  the  hiuh- 
lands  of  New  Fngland,  from  Mount  Ilolvoke.  Wachusett,  and  MouadiMck. 


to  the  White  and  Franconia  Mountains  and  Dixville  Notch ;  and  "  LAKES 
AND  STREAMS,"  devoted  to  a  consideration  of  the  beautiful  inland  waters  of 
New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Maine,  and  especially  to  Winnipesaukee, 
Sunapee,  Moosehead,  the  Rangeleys,  Memphremagog,  and  the  far-away  Lake 
St.  John,  in  Northern  Canada.  Richly  bound  and  handsomely  illustrated,  it 
is  hoped  that  these  books  may  be  of  service  both  to  actual  travellers  and  to 
people  who  are  planning  for  a  summer-journey.  The  Boston  &  Maine  Rail- 
road also  issues  a  little  book  devoted  solely  to  lists  of  the  hotels  and  board- 
ing-houses in  each  of  the  localities  on  or  near  its  route,  rates  of  excursions 
and  circular-trips,  and  the  service  of  its  parlor  and  sleeping  cars.  It  is 
entitled  "  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  SUMMER  EXCURSIONS."  With  this 
practical  helper,  the  cost  of  an  eastern  trip,  in  time  and  money,  may  be 
computed  approximately. 


OFFICERS 

BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD. 


GEORGE  C.  LORD,  President  .......  BOSTON. 

JAMES  T.  FCRHER,  General  Manager         ......  BOSTON. 

DANA  J.  FLANDERS,  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent        .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  E.  LOKD,  Assistant  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent     .  .  BOSTON. 

GEORGE  W.  STORER,  Assistant  General  Passenger-Agent  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  A.  WAITE,  Div.  Passenger-Agent,  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  Div.,  WORCESTER. 
WILLIAM  MERRITT,  Superintendent  Western  Division     ....  BOSTON. 

DANIEL  W.  SANRORN,  Superintendent  Eastern  Division  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

JOHN  W.   SANBORN,  Superintendent  Northern  Division    .  .  WoLFEBORO*  JUNCTION. 

GEORGE  W.  Hiwi.nrRT,  Superintendent  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  Division,  WORCESTER. 
W.  F.  SIMONS,  Superintendent  Southern  Division,  Lowell  System  .  .  BOSTON. 

H.  E.  FOI.SOM,  Superintendent  Passumpsic  Division,  Lowell  System,  .  LVNDON\  II.LE,  VT. 
G.  E.  TODD,  Superintendent  Northern-Railroad  Division,  Lowell  System,  CONCORD,  N.H. 
FRANK  D.  GOURLKV,  Travelling  Passenger-Agent  .....  BOSTON. 


TICKET-AGENTS  OF  THE  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  OF  WHOM 
EXCURSION-TICKETS  CAN  BE  OBTAINED. 

SAMUEL  GRAY       .  218  Washington  Street,  three  doors  south  of  State  Street,  Boston. 

T    M    FRFV  'H  )  Station,  Haymarket  Square,  Boston. 

'(       Station,  Causeway  Street,   Boston. 
N.  B.  DANA          .....         Lowell  Station,  Causeway  Street,  Boston. 

C.   M.   Rur.GLES    .......  Union  Station,  Worcester. 

LANCASTER  &  STEEDE    ......        434  Main  Street,  Worcester. 

J.    B.   LEPIRE         ......         25   Washington   Square,  Worcester. 

L.  W.  MAKDEN   .........       Station,  Salem. 

A.  H.  GTINCY       .......      Station,  North  River,  Salem. 

A.  A.  DAVIS          .........       Station,  Lynn. 

J.  CLARK  .....  .  .  Station,  South  Lawrence. 

C.   K.  MILLER       .......  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

H.   H.  CYsiiiNr,    ......  Lowell  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

A.  C.  TAPI.KY       ........  Station,  Havcrhill. 

1''.  J.   CLARK  ......  Station,  Central   Street,   Lowell. 

A.   V.   CASWKI.L     ......          Station,   Middlesex   Street,   Lowell. 

G.  O.  WHITE         ......          Station,  Merrimac  Street,  Lowell. 

F.  W.   POPE  .........   Station,   Clinton. 

C.   II.    KINNKV        ........   Station,  Ayer  Junction. 

F.  BARK      ..........  Station,  Nashua. 

G.  SWAIN   ........  Lowell  Station,  Nashua. 

A.   ELLIOTT  ........         Station,   Manchester. 

C.   L.   GII.MORE      ........  Station,  Concord. 

C.   W.    KNOWI.ES  ........      Station,  Newlnnyport. 

W.   T.   PERKINS     ........         Station,    Portsmouth. 

P.  WHITE,  JR.      .........     Station,   F.xeter. 

C.   A.    HASEI.TINE  ........      Station,    Dover. 

F.  N.  CHASE         ........         Station,  Great   Kails. 

N.   T.    KIMKAI.L      ........  Station.    Ro, 'hosier. 

A.  F.   B.   Ki.nYi)   ..... 

F.  F..   RICH  \KHSON'  .... 

A.  M.  GOODWIN 

W.   F.   FEKXAI.U    ..... 
M.   L.  WILLIAMS  ..... 

C.  J.  Win, IN 

C.  P.  WALDKON    . 


CHAPTER  I. 

TO  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

THE  SEA-SHORE  ROUTE. — A  RUN  UP  THE  ESSEX  COAST. —  LOWER  NEW 
HAMPSHIRE.  —  THE  WINNIPESAUKEE  REGION.  —  THE  SANDWICH 
RANGE.  —  THE  APPROACH  TO  NORTH  CON  WAY. 

IN  six  short  hours  from  Boston,  by  a  route  leading  through  several  of  the 
most  interesting  cities  of  New  England,  and  often  within  sight  of  the 
blue  sea,  you  may  be  transported  to  the  deep  glens  of  the  White  Moun- 
tains, where  the  cool  shadows  of  the  enwalling  highlands  rest  on  fair 
intervales,  crystal  lakes,  and  rushing  streams.     And  if  the  comfortable  first- 
class   cars   are   not   sufficiently  luxurious   and   select,   you   may   ride   in   the 
Pullman  parlor  on  wheels,  and  from  the  depths  of  a  softly  upholstered  easy- 
chair  watch  the  ever-varying  procession  of  the  landscape  —  bays  and  rivers, 
cities  and  hamlets,  lonely  farms  and  placid  lakes  —  through  the  clear  plate- 
glass   windows.      And  so,   between  breakfast    and    dinner,   you  shall    have 
crossed  five  counties  and  reached  the  "land  of  the  mountain  and  the  flood." 
The  attractions  of  the  sea-shore  section  of  this  route  are  set  forth  more  in 
detail  in  the  companion  to  this  book,  entitled  "Ai.L  ALONG  SHORE." 

It  takes  a  good  half-hour  to  run  through  the  broad  suburban  belt  of 
Boston  —  Charlestown  and  Somerville,  Chelsea  and  Revere  — and  over  the 
sea-bordered  salt-marshes  to  Lynn,  the  chief  seat  of  shoe-making,  which  is 
one  of  the  leading  industries  of  Massachusetts.  Another  short  run  brings 
you  to  Swampscott,  whose  blue  ocean-bound  lies  along  the  sunlit  east.  And 
then  comes  Salem,  dear  and  venerable  old  mother-city  of  the  Bay  State, 
beloved  alike  of  romance  and  of  science,  and  with  the  spice-laden  memories 
of  a  world-encircling  commerce,  African,  Kast-Indian,  and  through  the  South 
Seas.  In  fancy  you  mav  see  one  of  the  old-time  witches  [leering  from  the 
little  colonial  windows,  or  Hawthorne's  tall  ionn  disappearing  around  one  of 
the  giay  street-corners. 

Another  half-hour  leads  through  maritime  Bevcrlv,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  famous  North  Shore,  abounding  in  summer-villas  and  hotels;  a, id 
peaceful  rural  \Venham,  beside  its  world-renowned  lake;  and  Hamilton,  the 
country-home  of ''( Jail  Hamilton:"  and  the  tall  spires  and  weather-stained 
houses  of  Ipswich,  one  of  the  quaintest  of  the  old  Puritan  towns.  Then  the 
panorama  changes  again,  and  savors  of  <  >Id-\Yorld  Holland,  with  its  long 
levels  and  moorlands,  bordered  for  leagues  bv  the  weird  .-and  hill-  <•!  Plum 
Island,  through  whose  sierra-like  notches  gleams  the  vivid  blue  of  the  sea. 
Ueyond  ihi.-  drowned  land  \ewburvport  iv>t-  along  her  bree/v  h  !!-,  fanned 
1>\  the  ocean-wind-,  and.  like  Venice  and  Amain,  dreaming  of  a  loi,--!o.-t 


14 

maritime  commerce,  when  her  white  sails  were  blown  into  a  thousand  strange 
foreign  ports.  As  the  train  rumbles  across  the  high  bridge,  you  may  look 
up  the  broad  Merrimac  to  the  hills  around  Whittier's  home,  and  down  the 
river,  beyond  the  gray  old  wharves,  to  the  light-houses  on  Plum  Island,  and 
the  level  horizon  of  the  Atlantic. 

Another  half-hour  leads  across  brave  old  Rockingham  County,  in  New 


Hampshire,  by  the  Hamptons,  with  their  picturesque  salt-marshes  and 
favorite  beaches,  and  the  sea  glimmering  beyond  Hoar's  Head.  Portsmouth, 
the  old-time  Strawberry  l!ank,  with  its  long  streets  of  houses  of  the  Georgian 
era,  comes  next,  and  offers  the  lure  of  summer  joys  at  Newcastle  and  Kittery 
and  York  1  leach  and  the  I>lcs  of  Shoals.  Here  the  broad  and  swirling  Pis- 
cat.Kjua  is  crossed,  and  away  olf  toward  the  unseen  ocean  the  high  walls  of 


the  Hotel  Wentworth  cut  the  sky-line,  while  nearer  are  the  antiquated  ship- 
houses  o£  the  Kittery  navy-yard,  and  perhaps  a  glimpse  of  the  spars  of  the 
world-renowned  Constitution. 

A  few  miles  beyond,  and  our  many-wheeled  procession  turns  its  back  on 
the  coast,  and  begins  the  long  climb  into  Middle  New  Hampshire,  passing  a 
line  of  prosperous  manufacturing-towns, —  Salmon  Falls  and  Great  Falls  and 
Rochester.  Here,  on  the  Norway  Plains,  sadly  famous  in  by-gone  centuries 
for  Indian  forays,  we  shall  cross  the  railways  leading  to  Portland,  Nashua, 
Dover,  and  Lake  Winnipesaukee.  And  we  may  go  up  the  last-named  route, 
past  the  Blue  Hills  of  Strafford,  to  Alton  Bay,  which  is  one  of  the  chief 
ports  on  Lake  Winnipesaukee,  with  its  summer-hotel,  and  a  large  steamboat 
making  daily  voyages  to  all  the  other  forest-bound  ports  on  this  loveliest 
of  highland  seas.  The  attractions  of  Lake  Winnipesaukee  are  described 
carefully  and  at  length  in  "LAKES  AND  STREAMS." 


But  if  we  repel  the  allurements  of  this  side-trip,  the  train  bears  us  across 
the  towns  of  Milton  and  Union,  abounding  in  silvery  ponds  and  bold  hills, 
and  not  devoid  of  farm  boarding-houses ;  and  so  we  come  again  under  the 
spell  of  the  great  lake,  at  Wolfeborough  Junction,  whence  a  short  branch- 
railway  leads  out  to  Wolfeborough,  one  of  the  most  famous  summer-resorts 
in  this  region,  with  abundant  hotel  and  steamboat  accommodations,  and 
beautiful  mountain-views,  across  fair  Winnipesaukee. 

Northward  again,  across  the  long-drawn  town  of  Wakefield.  with  it- 
chain  of  lakes  on  the  border-line  of  Maine,  and  a  do/.en  or  so  of  farm 
boarding-houses.  For  the  next  fifteen  miles,  we  tlv  across  the  town  of  Ossi- 
pee,  over  broad  drift-plains,  and  past  the  shire-village  of  (.'arroll  ('mmtv. 
You  may  even  get  a  glimpse  of  dark  Ossipee  Lake  i"like  the  wildest  parts 
ot  \orway,''  Harriet  Martineau  said  of  it),  oval,  transparent,  heath-guarded, 
and  for  many  years  watched  bv  the  fortresses  of  Provincial  garrisons. 
Crossing  the  little  Hearcamp  River,  M>  sweetly  imniortali/eil  in  Whitiii  r'-. 
poetrv,  we  qnicklv  reach  West  (  Usipee.  the  end  of  the  >tai;t.  route--  ft  oin 


i6 


I? 

Centre  Harbor  and  Chocorua  Lake.  Here,  at  last,  \vc  Rain  a  noble  and  im- 
pressive view  of  the  mountains,  the  great  peaks  of  the  Sandwich  Range, 
stretching  away  along  the  Tamworth  Valley,  with  the  ponderous  Ossipee 
Mountains  on  the  south.  There  rise  the  rocky  cliffs  of  Whiteface,  the  gray 
ledges  of  Paugus,  the  dark  pyramid  of  Passaconaway,  and  the  glorious 
alpine  spire  of  Chocorua,  in  many  respects  the  most  proud  and  symmetrical 
mountain-peak  in  all  Xew  England.  Off  in  this  valley,  in  Sandwich  and 
Moultonborough  and  at  Tamworth  Iron-Works,  there  are  several  summer 
boarding-houses;  and  on  the  heights  above  the  exquisite  Chocorua  Lake 
stands  another,  in  a  region  sacred  to  the  summer-cottages  and  broad  wood- 
land estates  of  a  number  of  Boston  families. 

Presently  the  train  flies  along  the  shore  of  Silver  Lake,  looking  out  over 
its  curving  sandy  beaches  and  wooded  islands,  and  up  to  the  ancient  and 
sequestered  hamlet  of  Madison,  on  the  hills  to  the  northward.  Here,  also, 
and  at  Eaton,  a  pond-strewn  hill-town  beyond,  there  are  quiet  and  inexpen- 
sive boarding-houses  for  summer-blighted  citizens.  Through  the  luminous 
air  the  magnificent  granite  crags  of  Chocorua  loom  grandly  into  the  blue 
skv,  and  fairly  haunt  the  line  as  it  sweeps  on  through  a  wild  and  desolate 
region,  and  over  into  the  Saco  Valley.  Lucy  Larcom  thus  apostrophizes 
this  famous  peak  : 

The  pioneer  of  a  great  company 

That  wait  behind  him,  gazing  toward  the  east, — 

Mighty  ones  all,  down  to  the  nameless  least, — 

Though  after  him  none  dares  to  press,  where  he 

With  hunt  head  listens  to  the  minstrelsy 

Of  far  waves  chanting  to  the  moon,  their  priest. 

What  phantom  rises  up  from  winds  deceased? 

What  whiteness  of  the  unapproachable  sea? 

Hoary  Chocorua  guards  his  mystery  well: 

He  pushes  back  his  fellows,  le>t  they  hear 

The  haunting  secret  he  apart  must  tell 

To  hi>  lone  sell",  in  the  sky-silence  clear. 

A  shadowy,  cloud-cloaked  wraith,  with  shoulders  bowed, 

He  steals,  conspicuous,  from  the  mountain-crowd." 

Erelong,  the  sharp  peak  of  Moat  Mountain  rushes  into  view,  and  the 
dark  spire  of  Kiarsarge,  and  the  far-away  and  ethereal  Presidential  Range, 
and  scores  of  other  famous  peaks,  with  the  broad  intervales  and  graceful 
fringing  trees  of  the  Saco  filling  the  idvllic  foreground.  And  so.  with  a  brief 
stop  at  Conway,  the  exultant  train  glides  al<>:v_;  the  rich  meadows,  and  stops 
at  the  Xorlh-Conwav  >taiion,  in  presence  of  a  battalion  of  hotei-c-iacho. 


i8 


CHAPTER   II. 

NORTH    CONWAY. 

CONWAY. —  PIONEERS  AND  ANCIENT  INNS. —  EARLY  VISITORS. —  CATHE- 
DRAL WOODS.  —  A  BIRCH-BARK  VOYAGE.  —  THE  INTERVALES.  — 
WHITE-HORSE  LEDGE.  —  ECHO  LAKE.  —  DIANA'S  BATHS.  —  DUNDEE 
DRIVE. — THORN  HILL. —  MOUNT  KIARSARGE. —  MOAT  MOUNTAIN. — 
KIARSARGE  VILLAGE. —  INTERVALE. 

GONWAV  is  a  quiet  old  hamlet  sleeping  along  the  Saco  River,  which 
wanders  over  the  plain  in  many  a  long  convolution,  across  sandy 
shallows  and  through  deep  pools.  The  chief  inn,  the  Comvay  House, 
stands  in  the  middle  of  the  village,  shaded  by  fine  old  trees,  and 
frequented  by  summer-guests  who  find  pleasure  and  restf  ulness  in  the  uncon- 
ventional life  which  is  possible  here.  It  was  built  in  1850,  by  Horace 
Fabyan,  after  the  burning  of  his  hotel  near  the  site  of  the  present  Fabyan 
House.  Here  Daniel  Webster  spent  his  last  night  in  the  White  Mountains, 
while  on  his  way  by  stage  from  Crawford's  to  Centre  Harbor,  in  the  year 
1852.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  son  Fletcher,  and  by  the  veteran  moun- 
tain-explorer, H.  W.  Ripley.  Near  the  railway  station  stands  the  Pequawket 
House,  the  old  stage-tavern  of  the  village. 

In  the  lower  part  of  the  Green  Hills  is  a  fine  quarry  of  pale-pink  granite, 
which  has  furnished  paving-stones  for  Cincinnati,  masonry  for  the  Union 
Depot  at  Portland  and  the  new  Albion  Building  in  Boston,  and  materials 
for  other  fine  structures. 

A  wild  wood-road  leads  up  Pine  Hill  to  the  White-Mountain  Mineral 
Spring,  traversing  perfumed  jungles  of  brakes  and  ferns,  and  coming  out  at 
a  pagoda  which  overlooks  the  mountains  of  Fryeburg  and  Bridgton,  off 
towards  Sebago  Lake.  Thousands  of  barrels  of  the  spring-water  have  been 
sent  from  this  point  to  all  parts  of  the  Republic;  and  there  is  much  talk  of 
a  great  summer-hotel  being  built  on  the  far-viewing  plateau. 

The  Washington  Bowlder  rests  on  the  hillside,  in  the  woods,  a  mile  from 
Conway,  like  a  ship  just  ready  for  launching,  and  close  around  it  grow  tall 
trees,  the  descendants  of  primeval  forests  that  have  risen  and  culminated 
and  decayed  here.  This  enormous  block  of  granite,  46  feet  long  and  39 
feet  high,  was  torn  from  the  ledges  of  Moat  Mountain  in  the  remote  past 
of  the  ice  age,  and  came  across  the  valley  as  part  of  the  freight  of  a  glacier. 
A  few  miles  distant,  in  Madison,  is  another  bowlder,  the  largest  yet  dis- 
covered, measuring  three  hundred  feet  around,  and  thirty  feet  high. 

The  view  from  Potter's  Farm,  near  the  long  highland  loch  of  Walker's 
Pond,  affords  a  capital  objective  for  a  drive,  and  includes  the  vast  pano- 


19 

rama  of  mountains  from  Chocorua  and  Moat  and  up  the  Comvay  glen  to 
the  Presidential  Range,  away  around  by  Kiarsarge  and  the  Green  Hills  to 
Mount  Pleasant,  in  Maine.  Among  other  most  interesting  localities  within 
easy  drive  of  Comvay,  are  the  noble-viewing  Allard's  Hill;  the  highland-girt 
Buttermilk  Hollow;  the  base  of  Mount  Chocorua,  Echo  Lake  and  the  Moat 
Ledges,  the  lovely  old  village  of  Fryeburg,  the  falls  and  valley  of  Swift 
River,  famous  for  gamey  fish,  and  the  Ridge  Road. 

Down  in  South  Comvay,  near  the  Dundee  and  Kdgecumb  mountains 
(singular  twin  hills,  nearly  covered  with  woods),  are  one  or  two  farm 
boarding-houses,  frequented  in  summer  by  lovers  of  seclusion  with  Nature. 

North  Comvay  occupies  a  situation  of  peculiar  beauty,  on  a  shelf-like 
terrace  in  the  great  eastern  portal  of  the  White  Mountains,  where  the  Saco 
River  flows  down  through  broad  intervales,  over  whose  beautiful  emerald 
floor  the  vast  central  range  is  seen  with  the  best  possible  effect.  The  Presi- 
dential peaks  are  a  score  or  more  of  miles  distant,  up  this  highland-walled 
vista,  at  an  admirable  point  for  landscape  effect,  and  with  a  grouping  of 
singular  majesty.  On  one  side  of  the  valley  towers  the  tremendous  league- 
long  ridge  of  Moat  Mountain,  with  its  picturesque  promontory-ledges  push- 
ing forward  toward  the  river;  and  along  the  eastern  side  of  the  terrace  the 
Green  Hills  (or  Rattlesnake  Range)  rise  against  the  horizon.  The  village  is 
rather  straggling,  and  lacks  the  orderly  beauty  and  rural  air  of  Jackson  and 
Campton,  but  much  has  been  clone  recently  (especially  since  the  introduc- 
tion of  a  copious  water-supply)  to  redeem  its  streets  and  lawns,  and  to  give  a 
more  park-like  appearance  to  their  surroundings.  There  are  stations  here  of 
the  Boston  &  Maine  and  Maine  Central  Railroads;  churches  for  the  Episco- 
palians, Congregationalists,  and  Methodists  ;  several  shops  of  various  kinds; 
and  great  stables,  where  one  can  get  carriages  for  visiting  scores  of  delightful 
localities  that  surround  the  place  as  no  other  mountain-village  is  surrounded. 
The  town  takes  its  name  from  that  gallant  old  English  statesman.  Henry 
Seymour  Comvay,  Walpole's  friend,  commander-in-chicf  of  the  British  .Army, 
and,  at  the  time  when  this  mountain-glen  was  baptized,  a  prominent  champion 
of  the  liberties  of  America,  in  England's  Parliament.  The  Pequawket  In- 
dians, the  aborigines  of  this  region,  did  not  wait  for  another  visit  from  their 
Christian  English  brethren,  after  Lovewell's  bloody  foray,  but  fled  northward 
to  Canada,  through  the  Pinkham  Notch,  and  received  a  large  grant  of  land 
from  the  viceroy  ot  New  France.  There  their  descendants  still  dwell;  and 
every  summer  thev  come  down  to  their  old  homes  by  the  Saco,  and  despoil 
the  pale-faces  by  selling  to  them  baskets  and  other  trinkets  of  birch  and 
sweet  grass,  made  up  with  the  harmony  of  colors  and  grace  of  form  natural 
to  their  half-French  blood.  Hither  al>o  comes  a  detachment  of  the  old 
Tarratine  tribe,  from  the  Penob>cot  River,  bent  on  .-imilar  errands  of  money- 
getting. 

Toseph  Thompson  migrated  from  Lee  something  over  a  hundred  Years 
ai;o,  and  erected  on  the  intervale  a  tramc  !ioti>e,  which  was  afterwards  re- 
moved to  its  present  site  at  the  Three  Elms,  not  far  from  the  Kcarsarge 
Hou-c.  where  it  ha<  been  u-cd  a<  a  boarding-house  and  ;i^  ;;  military  school. 
From  thi>  pioneer  Jo>eph  descended  the  Thorn ]>-ons  of  the  pie-ent  day,  >o 


well  known  in  the  valley.  In  1840,  S.  W.  Thompson  converted  his  father's 
farm-house  into  a  country-tavern,  and  established  a  line  of  stages,  running 
from  Portland  through  North  Comvay  and  the  Notch.  In  1861,  he  built  the 
present  south  wing  of  the  Kearsarge  House,  and  eleven  years  later  the  main 
edifice  came  into  being,  simultaneous  with  the  arrival  of  the  Eastern  Rail- 
road at  the  village.  Thompson  made  a  contract  with  a  dozen  or  more 
artists,  half  a  century  ago,  by  which  he  boarded  them  for  $3.50  a  week, 
each,  and  sent  their  noonday  meals  out  to  their  sketching-grounds,  wherever 
they  might  be.  On  their  part,  they  agreed  to  date  all  their  mountain 
sketches  from  North  Comvay;  and  the  result  was  a  most  effectual  advertis- 
ing of  the  hamlet,  all  over  the  Republic,  so  that,  after  six  years  of  this 


friendly  league,  the  place  received  continually  increasing  crowds  of  summer- 
guests. 

The  Washington  [louse,  near  the  Maine-Central  station,  was  built  about 
the  time  of  the  War  of  iSi2,  by  Daniel  Kastman,  whose  funeral  occurred  in 
the  village  church  a  vear  or  two  ago.  For  decades,  this  was  a  favorite  stop- 
ping-place for  Vermont  traders  and  fanners,  or,  their  way  between  1'ortland 
and  the  Green-Mountain  State,  with  their  heavily-laden  wagon-trains.  After- 
wards, it  became  a  resort  for  summer-boarders,  and  enjoyed  a  goodly  patron- 
age up  to  within  a  few  years,  when  the  erection  of  new  and  more  modern 
hotels  caused  it  to  lie  abandoned  and  left  to  fall  into  ruin. 

The  magnate  of  the  valley,  in  those  old  dav>,  was  Dr.  Alexander  Ram- 
say, a  small  and  deformed  individual  from  Edinburgh,  enjoying  an  annuity  of 


some  three  thousand  dollars  a  year  from  his  Scottish  forbears,  and  beloved 
by  all  the  rustics,  not  less  for  his  quaint  Caledonian  wit  and  his  great  medi- 
cal skill,  than  for  the  many  benefactions  which  he  lavished  on  all  sides. 
During  the  War  of  1812,  he  went  home  to  Scotland,  and  remained  until  the 
dawn  of  peace,  when  he  returned  to  his  pleasant  White-Mountain  valley. 

It  is  sixty  years  since  one  of  the  first  parties  of  tourists  walked  up 
through  these  quiet  glens.  Its  members  were  Caleb  Cushing,  Samuel  J. 
May,  William  Ware,  and  George  B.  Kmerson,  then  fresh  from  college;  and 
as  this  brave  company,  armed  with  guns  and  barometers,  fared  onward,  they 
filled  the  simple  rustics  with  astonishment,  insomuch  that  the  entire  popula- 
tion of  at  least  one  hamlet  fled  at  their  approach.  One  benignant  farmer's 
wife  attempted  to  appease  them  with  bread  and  milk,  but  their  mountain- 
born  appetites  were  so  prodigious  that  at  last  she  exclaimed  :  "  Young  gen- 
tlemen, I  should  think  that  you  never  had  been  weaned." 

Nor  has  North  Conway  been  devoid  of  famous  immigrants,  since  the 
clays  when  Daniel  Webster  and  Judge  Story,  Jonathan  Mason  and  Chester 
Harding,  Starr  King  and  Thomas  Cole  came  hither  to  rest  amid  the  fairest 
charms  of  Xature.  Strange  enough  some  of  them  have  been,  like  Harry 
Bloodgoocl  (Carlos  Mauran),  the  inimitable  negro  minstrel,  who  acquired  a 
house  here,  and  dwelt  among  the  hills  until  his  death. 

For  many  years,  the  main  route  of  access  from  the  southward  was  by  the 
stage-coaches  from  Centre  Harbor,  bowling  merrily  away  over  the  Ossipee 
and  Madison  plains,  and  so  on  into  the  hill-country.  Centre  Harbor  was 
reached  from  across  Lake  Winnipesaukee,  at  Alton  Bay,  the  terminus  of 
the  Cocheco  Railroad.  As  late  as  the  year  1858,  there  were  but  three  public 
houses  at  Xorth  Comvav, —  the  Washington,  Kearsarge,  and  North-Conway. 

Xowhere  else  are  there  more  magnificent  forests  than  those  that  bend 
around  Xorth  Conway  and  Intervale, —  the  renowned  Cathedral  Woods,  the 
Enchanted  Woods,  the  embowered  aisles  that  lead  away  to  the  liases  of  the 
Green  Hills,  the  venerable  wilderness  from  out  of  which  Moat  Mountain 
breaks  in  a  league-long  wave,  crested  with  rocky  foam.  These  pleasant  soli- 
tudes, peopled  only  with  birds  and  squirrels,  arc  traversed  by  a  network  of 
deserted  logging-roads,  now  reclaimed  by  rank  glasses  and  berrv-bushes  and 
all  the  lloral  bla/onry  of  our  Xew-Kngland  summer.  And  over  such  idvllic 
paths  one  may  wander  for  hours,  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  the  husv  world, 
and  wrapped  in  all  the  rich,  strange  scents  of  luxuriant  Xatuie.  Here  and 
there  the  neighboring  mountains  glimmer  into  the  tie-id  of  vision,  like  bits  of 
Beulah  land,  ''in  distance  and  in  dream." 

In  June,  patches  of  snow  linger  on  the  dim  blue  sides  of  the  great  moun- 
tains to  the  northward,  and  the  air  is  filled  with  coolness  ami  exhilaration. 
Then,  also,  the  perfumes  of  the  graces,  the  spruees  and  hemioeks.  and  the 
beds  of  ferns  and  brakes,  till  the  long  village-street,  and  bring  rare  refresh- 
ment to  the  tew  citv-people  who  have  come  hitherward  in  advance  oi  the 
orthodox  season.  As  autumn  approaches,  the  Sot!  >kv  is  niied  with  tleecv 
clouds,  and  the  shortening  davs  round  out  their  term.-  in  niri!o\\  and  t  ranquil 
delight.  At  morning  and  evening,  the  i;reat  vallev.  from  \\  Inch  the  sun  is 
.shut  out  bv  the  oventanuinu  ranees,  is  full  of  dewv  coolness  ami  fre-hness. 


On  every  side,  the  autumn  flowers  flame  out  in  masses  of  color, —  golden 
and  scarlet  and  purple, —  from  the  road-sides  and  the  edges  of  the  forests. 
One  by  one,  the  great  trees  change  from  living  green  to  the  more  glorious 
hues  of  decline, —  the  golden  and  ruby  and  brown  and  scarlet, —  until  the 
woods  glow  almost  like  rainbows,  and  form  amazing  contrasts  with  the  deep- 
green  ot  the  pines  and  fir-trees,  massed  here  and  there  over  broad  areas. 
Over  the  mountains  this  robe  of  autumnal  glory  is  thrown,  from  base  to 
summit,  rising  from  the  lush  meadows  to  the  deep  blue  of  the  September 
sky.  At  this  time,  the  artists  find  North  Conway  full  of  poetic  charm,  and 
many  other  people  of  delicate  culture  take  pleasure  in  watching  the  brilliant 
transformation  scene.  Several  of  the  local  inns  are  provided  with  means 
for  heating  their  rooms,  and  around  the  great  fireplaces  in  their  halls  at 
evening  gather  groups  of  lovers  of  Nature. 

The  present  railway  station  was  built  by  the  Eastern  Railroad,  which 
made  its  entrance  to  this  Happy  Valley  in  the  year  1872.  There  is  some- 
thing exotic  and  Muscovite  in  its  architecture,  which  contrasts  strangely  with 
the  far-surrounding  mountains  and  meadows.  The  adjacent  park  has  been 
plowed  up  and  re-planted  with  grass-seed  by  the  Boston  &  Maine,  and  a 
dozen  little  local  showers,  from  as  many  water-jets,  help  to  encourage  the 
growth  of  a  lawn  on  this  hungry  and  arid  soil. 

The  visitor  should  go  down  to  Champney's  studio,  in  the  southern  part 
of  the  village,  and  see  his  masterly  paintings  of  the  mountains  and  gorges 
and  meadows,  and  the  vivid  beauties  of  panel-pictures  of  pale-purple  lilacs, 
and  sheaves  of  golden  corn,  and  groups  of  heavy  ferns  and  scarlet  field-lilies. 
Or  visit  the  little  curiosity-shops  on  the  main  street,  with  their  stuffed 
hawks  and  crows  and  owls,  skins  of  bears  and  foxes,  and  other  indigenous 
bric-a-brac.  Or  give  an  hour  or  two  to  the  photograph  parlors,  and  see  their 
wonderful  reproductions  of  the  mountain  scenery,  representing  many  a  nook 
visited  only  by  the  most  daring  and  tireless  of  explorers,  besides  the  more 
familiar  and  beloved  localities  known  of  all  tourists. 

The  Forest-Glen  Mineral  Spring  bubbles  up  among  the  white  sand  in  a 
rocky  basin  not  far  from  the  village,  amid  pleasant  woods,  and  near  the 
Artists'-Falls  House.  It  is  a  remarkably  pure  and  unmineral  water,  highly 
valuable  on  account  of  its  freedom  from  the  usual  grains  of  solid  matter, 
and  consumed  in  great  quantities  by  people  in  distant  cities. 

A  short  walk  above  are  the  pretty  little  Artists'  Falls,  amid  charming 
scenery  of  rocks  and  woods.  And  somewhere  hereabouts  begins  the  path 
up  Middle  Mountain,  the  chief  of  the  Green  Hills,  with  its  famous  views  of 
Chocorua  and  Lafayette  and  the  Saco  Valley. 

The  gray  old  mill  at  this  lower  end  of  the  village  is  a  favorite  sketching- 
ground  for  artists,  with  its  coolness  and  stillness,  the  rich  leafage  of  the 
shore,  the  pebbles  of  the  beach,  the  reflections  from  the  limpid  water. 

On  the  southern  road,  inst  beyond  Champney's,  stands  the  ancient 
McMillan  I  louse,  with  its  ideally  beautiful  lawn  and  ancient  trees,  and  the 
intervale  close  at  hand  on  the  west,  stretching  across  to  Moat  Mountain,  and 
brightened  by  the  silvery  curves  of  the  Saco.  Xearly  opposite  rises  the 
ledgy  brow  of  Sunset  Hill,  whose  glorious  view  over  the  valley  and  moun- 


23 

tains  has  been  portrayed   by  Kcnsett   and   Champney  and   many  another 
famous  artist. 

On  the  lonely  hill  south  of  the  village  long  stood  the  abandoned  and 
forlorn  old  church  in  which  the  pioneers  worshipped,  with  its  projecting 
porch,  arched  ceiling,  high-perched  pulpit,  and  double  roofs,  one  of  solid  oak 
and  one  of  white  pine.  After  standing  here  nearly  a  century,  latterly  aban- 


CATHKDRAI.    I.EDGK   AND    ECHO    LAKK,    NORTH    CONWAV. 

doncd   to  the  birds  and  wild  creatures,  it  was  torn  clown  two  or  three  years 
ago.  and  became  a  skating-rink  in  the  village. 

The  cosey  little  Moat-Mountain  House  stands  on  the  rich  and  peaceful 
plain  halt  a  league  south  of  North  < 'onwav,  and  has  been  for  main'  years  a 
resort  for  the  literary  and  artistic  people  of  Portland, — Ml  well,  Maxter,  Han  v 
lirown,  and  others. 


24 

A  novel  and  interesting  excursion  may  be  enjoyed  by  descending  the 
Saco  in  a  birch-bark  canoe,  from  the  bridge  to  Shatigee  or  Fryeburg.  In 
reaching  the  first-named  place,  a  distance  of  but  five  miles  by  road,  the 
course  of  the  winding  and  arrowy  river  must  be  followed  for  a  dozen  miles, 
with  continually  changing  views  of  the  great  mountains,  and  a  shifting  pano- 
rama of  thicketted  banks,  giant  white  maples  draped  with  Virginia  creeper, 
clematis  and  golden-rod,  wild  grapes  and  red-fruited  thorn-trees.  Now  the 
pellucid  waters  rush  musically  over  stony  shallows,  and  now  they  rest  in 
dark  pools  forty  feet  deep.  After  some  hours  of  this  wonderful  panoramic 
voyage,  the  little  port  is  reached,  and  the  wee  bit  boatie  must  be  sent  back 
on  the  railway.  A  century  or  so  ago,  the  settlers  in  these  glens  used  to 
make  the  long  journey  to  the  coast  in  rude  boats,  hollowed  out  of  trees,  and 
laden  with  several  hundred  weight  of  produce.  Boats  and  cargoes  had  to 
be  carried  around  the  rapids,  and  launched  below. 

One  of  the  chief  charms  of  this  region  is  its  broad  and  lovely  intervale, 
the  bed  of  a  pre-historic  lake,  of  which  the  silvery  ribbon  of  the  Saco  is  all 
that  remains.  Long  after  all  the  surrounding  country  is  parched  with  sum- 
mer sunshine,  this  level  floor  of  green  retains  its  freshness  and  beauty,  re- 
freshing to  the  eye  and  soothing  to  the  soul.  A  drive  across  the  intervale, 
on  a  bright  morning,  is  an  experience  never  to  be  forgotten,  for  its  gorgeous 
pageantry  of  wild  flowers,  the  melody  of  countless  bobolinks  and  robins  and 
thrushes,  the  rare  grace  of  the  great  bouquet-like  trees  that  stud  the  emerald 
plain,  and  the  unobstructed  views  of  the  mountains  on  every  side.  The  road 
leaves  the  village  at  Sunset  Bank,  and  crosses  the  Saco  by  a  covered  bridge, 
passing  also  the  handsome  Armbruster  estate,  and  then  suddenly  plunging 
into  the  edge  of  the  woods,  close  to  Echo  Lake. 

Full  in  sight  across  the  valley,  and  only  a  short  stroll  from  Xorth  Con- 
way,  rise  the  famous  Ledges,  bold  shoulders  of  Moat  Mountain  projected 
into  the  lowlands,  and  fronted  with  noble  and  picturesque  cliffs.  On  the 
southernmost  of  these  is  a  white  spot  which  gives  it  the  name  of  White- 
Horse  Ledge,  and  is  pointed  out  to  the  unimaginative  visitor  until  he  cries, 
with  Richard,  •'  My  kingdom  for  a  horse!"  At  the  foot  of  this  ledge  spreads 
the  lovely  Kcho  Lake,  reflecting  in  its  limpid  waters  the  noble  shapes  above. 
the  great  trees  of  the  surrounding  forest,  and  the  bright  selvage  of  its  sandy 
beaches.  A  difficult  path  clambers  up  to  the  top  of  the  ledge,  with  its  won- 
drous view  over  the  meadows  and  mountains. 

Over  back  of  the  ledge  are  Thompson's  Falls,  a  picturesque  bit  of  water 
and  woodland  scenery,  hidden  on  a  little  stream  which  wanders  merrilv  down 
the  mountain.  It  is  easy  enough  to  stroll  up  the  old  forest-road  to  the  great 
clearing  and  its  gnarled  apple-orchard:  but  to  find  the  falls,  only  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  distant,  often  puzzles  the  best  woodsmen. 

A  short  distance  to  the  northward  of  White-Horse  Ledge,  a  road  leads 
off  to  the  base  of  the  Cathedral  Ledge,  with  its  deep  cleft  in  the  granite 
wall,  and  its  rude  semblance  of  (ioihic  arches  overhanging  the  seclusion  of 
the  cavern. 

The  next  curiosity  in  this  Moat-Mountain  collection  is  l>iana's  !'>ath>. 
where  a  mountain-brook  dashes  and  slider-  downward  over  IOHL-  sheets  and 


shelves  of  granite,  with  here  and  there  a  bright  little  cascade,  or  a  deep 
water-worn  pool  cut  in  the  solid  rock,  and  around  which  the  swirling  stream 
rushes  in  sparkling  eddies,  polishing  the  ledges  to  a  glassy  smoothness.  A 
winding  and  woody  path  follows  the  course  of  the  water,  giving  many  de- 
lightful glimpses  of  this  strangest  of  mountain-brooks.  Farther  on,  a  pleas- 
ant wildwood  trail  leads  from  the  road  up  through  a  jungle  of  rock-ferns 
and  wild-raspberry  bushes,  and  glistening  white  and  yellow  birches,  and 
fragrant  deep-green  basswoods,  and  solemn  hemlocks.  live  and  bye  comes 
a  long  stairway  of  rocks,  with  carpets  of  rich  moss,  and  then  the  great  portal 
of  Pitman's  Arch  is  entered,  with  delicate  fern-draperies  on  either  side. 
From  the  cavern  inside  this  noble  Gothic  arch,  you  may  look  out  across 
the  tree-tops  below,  and  over  the  bends  of  the  silvery  Saco,  flashing  through 


' 


its  sweet  intervales,  and   soon   to   the  t.ii!    mountains  \\  hich  enwall  the  vale, 
and  raise  their  dark  ,-ierras  against  the  skv. 

Near  the  base  of  Humphiev's  I.cduc  is  the  little  brown  Cottage  for  in.inv 
year.-  (until  her  death)  occupied  bv  Lady  Ulanche  M  urphv.  '.!)••  daughter  of 
an  earl,  who  eloped  from  the  ancestral  halls  in  old  LiU'.hmd  with  her  miiMC- 
teachcr.  and  tied  across  the  sea  to  this  solitude,  whence  -he  -en!  man':  con- 
tributions to  the  maga/ines  and  the  American  Liu  veiopcdia. 

The  owners   of    the    local   horso   are    not    over-anxious    to    drive    to    the 

top   ot    Humphrey's    Ledge,  over  the   new  road,   for  it    i-  a    " ilv   ciimb   to 

that    commanding   hei'.'.ht,  and   the  lo\\',and  Meeds  prefer   tile   meadow-roads. 
l>ul    the   airy   summit   more   than   re>v.\ ,   the    vicarious   labor  of    :h.      i-  nit, 
in   its   bird's-cve  view  over   the  glen   and  far   up  into   the  dim  rv. 
mountains. 


26 


The  Dundee  Drive  was  one  of  the  favorite  excursions  ot  the  old-time 
visitors  to  North  Conway,  before  the  intruding  railways  had  thundered 
along  the  valley.  The  road  remains  as  in  those  days,  rich  in  luxuriant 
forests  meeting  overhead,  thickets  of  rank  ferns,  lonely  hill-pastures,  beds 
of  cinnamon-roses,  and  amazing  views  of  the  great  mountains, —  the  near-by 
Kiarsarge,  the  granite  brows  of  Moat,  the  pale-blue  ridges  of  the  Lake 
Country,  and  the  majestic  peak  of  Washington,  cut  into  by  deep  and 
shadosvy  ravines,  and  supported  by  its  huge  brethren  of  the  Presidential 
Range.  It  is  a  singularly  hilly  road,  safe  enough,  indeed,  but  so  hard  on 
horses  that  the  neighboring  hotel-keepers  do  not  eagerly  include  it  among 
their  favorite  drives  for  visitors.  It  runs  northward  into  the  mountains, 
between  Thorn  and  Kiarsarge,  and  near  Double  Head  and  the  Black  range; 
and  comes  back  by  way  of  the  lovely  little  hamlet  of  Jackson. 


The  Thorn-Hill  road  begins  its  long  ascent  above  the  East  Branch,  past 
several  old  farms,  and  through  a  tract  of  deep  woods.  From  the  summit  of 
the  hill,  you  overlook  the  quiet  Conway  valley  and  the  turquoise-blue  hills 
of  Ossipee,  and  in  the  north  the  magnificent  Presidential  Range,  and  the  mar- 
vellous cleft  of  Carter  North.  Two  miles  or  so  beyond  is  the  hamlet  of 
Jackson,  and  the  ride  thither  gives  many  interesting  glimpses  over  the  Kllis 
and  Wild-cat  valleys. 

( )f  the  favorite  rides  elsewhere,  only  the  names  can  be  set  forth  here.  — 
the  memorable  excursions  to  historic  Frycbnrg  and  Jockey  Cap,  to  Butter- 
milk Hollow  and  Walker's  1'ond,  to  Jackson  and  Carter  Notch,  and  a  score 
of  other  localities,  each  with  its  crown  of  attraction. 

Mount  Kiarsarge,  the  queenly  peak,  towers  over  the  village  with  mag- 
nificent effect,  and  is  the  favorite  excursion-point  for  all  who  can  endure 
climbing.  It  is  customary  to  ride  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  about  two 


27 

miles  from  X'orth  Conway,  and  there  enter  on  the  ascent,  by  a  well-marked 
upward  path,  a  good  three  miles  long.  Saddle-horses  and  guides  may  be 
secured  at  the  farm-house  where  the  path  begins;  but  most  visitors  prefer 
to  clamber  up  on  foot.  About  a  third  of  the  way  up  is  Prospect  Ledge, 
where  you  can  rest  and  get  your  breath  and  enjoy  a  charming  view.  Half 
a  mile  farther  on,  a  cold  clear  spring  bursts  out  by  the  side  of  the  path,  a 
welcome  sight  on  a  warm  day.  The  last  mile  or  so  is  right  straight  up, 
over  vast  sheets  of  granite.  The  view  from  the  summit,  —  Moosilauke  and 
Lafayette,  the  Presidential  Range,  Goose  Eye,  the  peaks  toward  Lake  Um- 
bagog,  Portland,  Scbago  Lake,  Monadnock,  the  other  Kearsargc,  —  defies 
description  or  eulogy.  It  is  preferred  by  many  travellers  to  the  view  from 
Mount  Washington,  as  more  comprehensible,  and  richer  in  beauty  and  in 
human  interest.  The  old  hotel  on  this  peak,  built  in  1849,  ar"d  bound  to 
the  rocks  by  chains  and  logs,  was  blown  away  in  1883,  and  has  been  re- 
placed by  a  smaller  house,  at  which  summer-day  tourists  can  secure  food, 
or  even  lodging.  The  famous  war-ship  that  sunk  the  Alabama  received  its 
honored  name  from  this  mountain,  or  its  Merrimac-  Valley  sister.  And  we 
will  append  here  the  glorious  "  Kcarsarge  "  poem  by  Dr.  Mitchell: 

Across  the  barren  lowlands, 
\Vherc  men  find  scanty  food, 

The  north  wind  brings  its  vigor 
To  homesteads  plain  and  rude. 

Ho,  land  of  pine  and  granite! 

Ho,  hardy  northland  breeze! 
Well   have  you  trained  the  manhood 

That  shook  the  Channel  seas, 

When  o'er  those  storied  waters 
The  iron  war-bolts  Hew, 

And  through  Old   F.ngland's  churches 
The  summer  breezes  blew. 


Tin-  path  up  Moat  Mountain  goes  in  from  Diana's  ISaths,  following 
a  pleasant  wood-road  for  something  over  two  miles,  and  then  climbing 
heartilv  up  the  steep  slope  for  two  miles,  first  through  the  deep  forest,  and 
then  out  mi  the  ledges,  and  past  immense  areas  of  blueberries.  It  is  three 
miles  I  n>m  the  Kcarsarge  House  to  Lucy's  farm-house,  and  three  and  a 
halt  miles  thence  to  the  top  of  the  Xorth  Peak.  There  is  an  inspiring  walk 
ot  three  miles  along  the  ridge  ot  Moat  to  the  South  Peak,  whence  a  path  one 
and  a  halt  miles  long  descends  to  the  Swill-River  road,  tour  miles  irom 
('onway  (  oiner.  <  M  the  splendid  views  gained  tmm  this  emmenre  we  m.iv 
nut  speak  in  detail.  The  mountain  was  named  more  than  a  hundred  vear> 
ago,  from  the  so-called  '"moats,"  or  beaver-dams,  that  then  lined  its  base.  It 
was  the  mo>t  heavily  wooded  range  in  this  region  until  the  vcar  iS;4.  when 


a  great  fire  swept  over  it,  destroying  the  forests,  and  even  the  earth  out  of 

which  they  grow. 

Artists  in  color  have  glorified  great  canvases  with  transcriptions  of  the 
scenery  on  the  upper  and  lower  intervales,  and  artists  in  words  have  devoted 
glowing  chapters  to  their  pure  beauties.  Xor  shall  the  present  writer  rush 
in  where  these  masters  have  wellnigh  feared  to  tread.  He  will  do  better 
service  by  advising  the  Xorth-Conway  visitor  to  read  Starr  King's  "The 
White  Hills"  and  Drake's  "The  Heart  of  the  White  Mountains,"  and  the 
quaint  histories  of  old  times  in  these  highlands,  written  by  Willey  and  Craw- 
ford. A  celebrated  Scottish  traveller  likened  the  valley  to  that  of  Braemar. 
Drake  says  that  "Nature  formed  here  avast  ante-chamber  into  which  you 
are  ushered  through  a  gateway  of  mountains  upon  the  numerous  inner 
courts,  galleries,  and  cloisters  of  her  most  secluded  retreats." 

Kiarsarge  Village  lies  a  mile  and  a  half  from  North  Conway,  in  the 
pleasant  glen  of  the  Kiarsarge  Brook,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  great  Mount 
Kiarsarge.  Although  near  the  fashionable  hotels  and  shops  and  railway 
stations  of  the  village,  it  is  so  happily  screened  by  deep  woods  and  rocky 
ridges  that  the  little  valley  enjoys  a  peace  and  serenity  peculiarly  its  own. 
Half  a  century  or  more  ago,  this  settlement  was  known  as  ''  1  lardscrabble," 
being  the  dwelling-place  of  a  number  of  poor  families,  whose  men  worked 
on  their  well-to-do  neighbors'  intervale  farms,  while  the  women  and  children 
shocked  and  spread  flax,  picked  and  spun  wool,  shelled  corn,  scoured  pewter, 
and  otherwise  kept  busy  the  live-long  day. 

The  Intervale,  two  miles  north  of  North  Conway,  is  a  small  summer- 
village  on  the  shelf  above  the  great  intervale  of  the  Saco,  from  which  it 
derives  its  name.  In  the  vicinity  are  the  pleasant  villas  of  f^mes  Schoulcr, 
the  historian;  Melancthon  M.  Ilurd,  the  publisher;  the  Rev.  Dr.  Curry;  Mr. 
\V.  Kliot  Fette,  of  Boston  ;  Dr.  John  Worcester,  the  well-known  New- 
Church  divine;  Mrs.  E.  B.  Bigelow ;  and  other  well-known  persons.  This 
secluded  vernal  colony  is  one  of  the  most  charming  localities  in  the  mountain 
region,  with  its  clays  of  perpetual  re-pose,  its  dry  and  bracing  air,  and  its 
unrivalled  views  over  the  intervale  and  the  mountains.  The  little  guide- 
book by  Winfield  S.  Nevins  will  be  found  useful  to  visitors.  The  chief 
features  of  the  view  at  the  Intervale  are  the  broad  meadows  of  the  Saco. 
stretching  away  into  Lower  Bartlett,  and  over  them  the  magnificent  peaks 
of  the  Presidential  Range,  from  ravine-scarred  Washington  down  to  Iron 
Mountain.  Of  lesser  highlands  there  are  manv. —  Kiarsarge  and  the  <  Ircen 
Hills.  Moat  and  its  famous  ledges,  and  other  well-known  eminences,  \\itli  all 
their  blaxonrv  of  sunset  and  moonri>e,  transfiguring  bine  haze,  and  changing 
foliage. 

The  tamous  Cathedral  Woods  almo>t  surround  the  Intcrxale  hamlet,  free 
from  underbrush,  carpeted  with  pine-needles,  and  shade'!  bv  tall  [line-trees, 
rle.m  of  trunk  and  graceful  of  outline,  and  tilling  the  air  with  the  drowsv 
murmur  of  their  foliaue.  The>e  shadowy  aisles  afford  delightful  plao  s  in 
\\hirh  to  rest  or  to  ramble,  and  are  haunted  lominnaHv  bv  bevies  of  ladies 
and  Children  ironi  the  contiguous  hotels.  The  environment  of  road-  i-  >o 
(omplrte  that  there  i-  no  possibility  of  being  lo.^t  in  these  woods,  however 
remote  and  >olitary  may  be  the  path  chosen. 


29 

A  link1  way  beyond  the  Intervale  is  the  singular  colony  ot  Intervale 
Park,  founded  three  or  four  years  ago  by  Dr.  Charles  Culiis,  of  Boston,  as 
"a  summer-residence  for  religious  people  who  prefer  to  spend  the  summer 
in  devotional  exercises  and  in  the  glorification  of  God."  It  occupies  the 
crest  and  slopes  of  a  foot-hill  of  Uartlett  Mountain,  commanding  very  beauti- 
ful views  over  the  valley  of  the  Saco  and  its  imposing  walls.  There  are 
several  avenues,  with  a  score  or  two  of  cottages,  a  large  dining-hall,  a  taber- 
nacle, and  other  buildings.  Prayer  meetings  are  held  every  day  in  the  week; 
and  one  day  in  seven  is  set  aside  for  prayers  for  the  sick. 

The  first  settler  at  the  Intervale  was  the  Hon.  John  Pendexter,  who  came 
up  hither,  in  the  winter  of  1772,  from  Portsmouth,  dragging  all  his  house- 
hold furniture  on  a  hand-sled,  while  his  wife  rode  alongside,  on  a  feather-bed 
on  a  feeble  old  horse,  holding  her  child  in  her  arms.  They  erected  a  small 
house  on  the  meadow,  and  by  hard  work  and  economy  built  up  a  compe- 
tence, and  reared  a  worthy  family.  Soon  afterwards,  Klijah  Dinsmore  and 
his  wife  came  up  trom  Lee,  making  the  journey  on  snow-shoes,  and  carrying 
their  entire  estate  in  packs  on  their  backs. 

Lower  liartlett  is  a  small  hamlet  under  the  mountains,  where  the  Saco 
River  makes  a  sudden  turn  in  its  eastward  course,  and  fares  away  to  the 
southward,  oxer  the  Conway  meadows.  The  road  from  the  Intervale  passes 
through  a  region  of  farms  for  a  mile  and  a  quarter  to  the  comfortable  old 
I'eqnawkct  House;  and  thence  onward  for  nearly  a  mile  more  to  the  Mast- 
liranch  House,  with  many  interesting  views  on  every  side,  especially  in  the 
golden  glorv  ot  the  late  afternoon. 

It  may  be  useful  to  some  brave  pedestrian  to  have  at  hand  the  measure- 
ments of  the  road  between  the  Intervale  and  the  (Hen  House,  made  a  year 
or  two  ago  by  Francis  ISlake,  the  eminent  inventor,  with  his  electrical  odo- 
meter. Thev  are  as  follows,  in  miles: 


Glen  House,    .  

Hayes's  house 

RoUers's  house  (deserted1, 

Meserve's  house 

Ueii-KllU  Ihmse 

Iron- Mountain  House, 

I'.rMue  at  (loodridi  falls 

Fork  ot"(  ilenand  Comv.iy  roads,  near  ( '.!en  Station, 

lirick-ynrd 

F..ist-l',r;.iirh  House 

Pequawket   House.. 

Intervale  House,      , 


\Vhen  the  train  reaches  (lien  Station,  a  Hue  of  stage-coaches  o>mes  into 
vie\\,  and  people  bound  for  Jackson  and  the  (lien  House  descend  upon  the 
platform,  and  prepare  for  the  lovely  ride  into  the  mountains.  It  is  three 
and  a  half  miles  to  Jackson,  and  fifteen  and  a  hah'  inilo  to  tin.  (Hen  House. 
\ot  far  from  the  station  is  the  summer  boarding-hon-e  calh  d  Cedar  (  '<  'It age. 
There  the  stage-road  turns  up  the  vallev  of  the  Mil  is  Ki\er,  and  ascends  by 
that  madcap  stream  to  J.ukson,  through  a  beautiful  region  ni  deep  woods. 


CHAPTER    III. 

JACKSON. 

GLEN  STATION.  —  GOODRICH  FALLS.  —  JACKSON  FALLS. — WENTWORTH 
HALL. —  OTHER  HOTELS. —  THORN  MOUNTAIN. —  IRON  MOUNTAIN. — 
CARTER  NOTCH.  —  THE  OLD  SETTLERS.  —  A  GROUP  OF  ARTIST- 
EXPLORERS. 

ABOUT  half-way  from  Glen  Station  to  Jackson,  we  come  to  Goodrich 
Falls,  where  the  Glen-Ellis  River  drops  vertically  over  a  rocky  cliff 
into  a  deep  black  pool,  sixty  feet  below,  a  glorious  silver  transparency, 
effectively  seen  from  beneath,  where  great  trees  arch  over  the  troubled 
waters,  and  the  perpetual  thundering  of  the  fall  silences  all  other  sounds. 
From  this  point,  the  old  mill  that  mars  the  beauty  of  the  scene  from  the  road 
becomes  a  picturesque  object,  in  full  keeping  with  its  noble  surroundings. 
The  locality  is  still  full   of  the  charm  which  attracted  Thomas  Cole,  the 
painter  of  "The  Voyage  of  Life,"  forty  years  ago,  and  which  he  transferred 
to  his  glowing  canvas. 

Jackson,  happy  in  the  embrace  of  its  hills,  and  lulled  by  the  murmur  of 
its  merry  madcap  streams,  is  the  gem  of  the  mountains,  and  draws  to  its 
peaceful  seclusion  thousands  of  tourists  every  returning  season.  It  is  the 
merest  bit  of  a  hamlet,  hidden  in  the  deep  dell  between  Thorn  Mountain 
and  Iron  Mount,  and  the  Spruce  Mountains,  peeping  out  down  the  Ellis 
ravine  to  the  dreamy  blue  peak  of  Moat,  and  over  the  rugged  shoulder  of 
Iron  to  the  colossal  terraces  of  the  Giant's  Stairs.  In  the  very  centre  of 
the  hamlet,  where  the  road  crosses  the  stream,  the  Jackson  Falls,-  amber 
and  emerald,  silver  and  blue,  rush  down  over  long  slopes  of  granite,  over- 
hung with  sprays  of  foliage  and  young  willows,  and  plunging  into  many  a 
rock-rimmed  pool  between  its  white  and  foamy  descents.  On  one  side  of 
the  bridge  is  the  Jackson-Falls  House,  and  on  the  other  side  rises  the  cluster 
of  cottages  and  larger  buildings,  in  old-English  architecture,  which  make  up 
Wentworth  Hall.  Across  the  road  from  the  pretty  casino  stands  the  old 
village-church,  whose  pulpit  is  in  summer  occupied  by  divines  of  various 
denominations,  —  ministers,  rectors,  pastors,  dominies,  and  even  bishops. 
Another  popular  institution  is  the  Free  Library,  with  something  over  fifteen 
hundred  volumes,  and  accessible  to  non-residents. 

The  Iron-Mountain  House  is  half  a  mile  from  the  hamlet,  in  a  nest  of 
rich  rural  green,  near  the  Ellis  River,  and  under  the  stately  Iron  Cliff.  In 
the  upper  end  of  the  hamlet  stands  the  Glen-Ellis  House. 

Gray's  Inn  was  built  in  1884,  on  a  pleasant  knoll  on  the  Thorn-Hill  road, 
half  a  mile  from  Jackson  Falls,  with  charming  prospects  from  its  verandas. 


On  the  plateau  above  Jackson  Falls,  with  a  noble  view  of  the  Carter  Notch 
and  the  upper  Wild-cat  Valley,  stands  the  Eagle-Mountain  House,  in  a  region 
sacred  to  rural  peace,  pure  air,  and  the  charms  of  forest  and  pasture-lands. 

Among  the  favorite  drives  and  rambles  are  those  to  Mirror  Lake,  the 
far-viewing  Hillside  Circuit,  the  Winniweta  Falls,  the  Thorn-Hill  road,  and 
many  other  points  of  interest;  and  North  Conway  and  its  manifold  attrac- 
tions, and  the  famous  Ledges,  and  Glen-Ellis  Falls,  and  the  summit  of  Mount 
Washington  are  within  a  day's  drive.  The  most  interesting  and  profitable 
excursion  is  to  the  summit  of  Thorn  Mountain,  and  the  carriage-road  leads 
to  within  half  a  mile  of  the  crest,  three  miles  from  the  village.  The  view 
is  one  of  singular  beauty,  including  the  great  Presidential  Range,  the  Saco 
Valley  down  to  Effingham,  Kiarsarge  and  Moat,  Osceola  and  Carrigain,  and 
scores  of  other  famous  guardians  of  the  wilderness,  with  the  ideal  hamlet  of 
Jackson  close  at  hand  in  the  foreground. 

Iron  Mountain,  close  to  Jackson  on  the  west,  has  at  different  times  been 
the  scene  of  extensive  operations  in  mining  iron-ore  ;  but  this  industry  has 
long  been  abandoned.  The  massive  and  imposing  mountain  is  now  often 
visited  for  the  sake  of  its  view,  which  includes  a  vast  area,  from  Chocorua 
to  Washington.  (  Hher  adventurous  climbers  explore  the  singular  twin  peaks 
of  Double  Head,  a  ride  of  three  miles,  and  a  clamber  of  a  mile  and  a  half. 
On  the  high  slopes  of  the  mountains  north  of  Jackson,  there  are  several  de- 
serted  hill-farms,  affording  grand  morning  views  of  the  Presidential  Range, 
and  the  shadowy  depths  of  Tuckcrman's  Ravine,  and  the  long  valley  opening 
away  into  a  dreamland  distance  beyond  Conway. 

In  the  more  distant  brooks  up  the  glen,  and  towards  Perkins  Notch,  and 
on  the  upper  East  liranch,  many  trout  are  found,  although  by  August  they 
become  few  and  wary.  Occasionally  a  deer  is  shot  in  the  adjacent  forest; 
and  fat  bears  often  fall  victims  to  the  traps  of  the  farmers. 

Carter  Notch  is  nearly  ten  miles  from  Jackson,  up  the  narrow  and  lonely 
Wild-cat  (ilen,  the  road  ending  five  miles  out,  and  giving  place  to  an  Appa- 
lachian-Club path,  which  leads  up  the  ravine  to  the  crystalline  ponds  in  the 
heart  of  the  Notch,  amid  wondrous  heaps  of  colossal  bowlders,  and  under 
the  shadow  of  the  tremendous  cliffs  of  Carter  Dome.  The  larger  of  the 
ponds  covers  an  acre  and  a  half;  and  between  this  and  its  sister  lakelet  is  a 
snug  cam])  for  fishermen  and  hunters.  The  Notch  rises  3,3-0  feet  above  the 
sea,  the  very  heart  of  mountain  wilderness  and  desolation.  A  path  leads 
out  on  the  other  side,  reaching  the  Glen  House  in  about  four  miles  beyond 
the  ponds. 

The  first  settler  in  Jackson  was  lienjamin  C'opp,  who  dwelt  here  from 
I77<S  to  1700,  with  his  family,  in  lonely  sovereignty.  Then  came,  the  Pink- 
hams,  Meserves,  and  Votings,  live  families  in  all,  who  named  their  colony 
N'ew  Madhurv,  in  memory  of  their  old  home-town  in  the  New-Hampshire 
lowlands.  For  years.  the<e  hardy  pioneers  lived  on  trout  and  corn-meal 
porridge,  while  conquering  the  savage  wilderness.  The  year  before  the  Civil 
War,  Jefferson  Davis  spent  some  time  here,  in  keen  pursuit  of  the  good 
Vankee  fish  that  then  haunted  the  streams  in  greater  numbers  than  now. 
During  the  war,  after  all  its  available  men  had  gone  to  the  embattled  front, 


32 

the  yeomanry  of  the  valley  held  back  at  the  continuous  calls  for  fresh  relays 
of  soldiers,  and  sundry  of  them  camped  out  for  months,  amid  the  solitudes 
of  the  ravines  and  forests,  to  evade  the  recruiting-officers.  They  would  not 
march  away  to  the  stormy  Southland,  and  leave  their  families  poor  and  un- 
provided-for.  So  a  detachment  of  United-States  troops  entered  the  valley, 
and  encamped  for  some  weeks  on  the  little  green  before  the  church,  to  over- 
awe these  recalcitrant  citizens.  And  many  a  fruitless  hunt  did  the  boys  in 
blue  have,  over  the  woody  ridges  and  through  the  shadowy  gorges,  after  the 
conscript  mountaineers,  who  eluded  them  with  the  greatest  ease. 

"  First  the  honey-bee,  then  the  missionary,  then  the  fisherman  and  artist, 
then  the  tourist,"  is  the  formula  for  the  development  of  a  summer-resort. 
Boardman,  the  New-York  landscape-painter,  discovered  the  beauties  of 
Jackson  in  1847,  anc^  dwelt  here  with  the  family  of  Capt.  Joshua  Trickey, 
the  father-in-law  of  Gen.  Wentworth.  (This  veteran  of  the  mountains  died 
within  a  year  or  two,  aged  eighty-five.)  His  glowing  canvases,  exhibited  in 
New  York,  soon  sent  hither  a  group  of  distinguished  artists, —  Cole,  Durand, 
Bracket!,  Gerry,  Champney,  and  Doughty.  In  those  halcyon  days,  the 
hostess  did  the  cooking,  the  landlord  waited  on  the  table,  and  the  rate  of 
board  was  S3  a  week,  washing  included.  The  Jackson-Falls  House  was 
opened  by  Joseph  I!.  Trickey  in  1858;  The  Thorn-Mountain  House  (novr 
a  part  of  Wentworth  Hall)  came  into  existence  in  1869.  The  great  natural 
advantages  of  the  place  have  been  seized  upon  and  made  the  most  of,  and 
Jackson  has  assumed  a  position  as  one  of  the  chief  mountain-resorts.  Many 
handsome  summer-villas  now  crown  the  adjacent  hills;  and  costly  equip- 
ages of  patrician  families  bowl  over  the  adjacent  roads,  to  the  immense 
amazement  of  the  town-bred  horses.  Many  of  the  best  people  in  the  country 
sojourn  here  during  the  heats  of  summer,  including  high  national  officials, 
New-York  financiers.  Harvard  professors,  Vanclerbilts,  Frothinghams,  Con- 
verses, Ulatchfords,  Thatchers,  et  id  i;enus  oninc. 


33 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   GLEN    HOUSE. 

THE  ROAD  THROUGH  PINKHAM  NOTCH.  —  THE  GLEN  VIEW.  —  THE 
HOTEL.  —  A  BUNCH  OK  FLOWERS.  —  CRYSTAL  CASCADE  AND  GLEN- 
ELLIS  FALLS. —  TUCKERMAN'S  RAVINE. —THE  MOUNT- WASHINGTON 
CARRIAGE-ROAD. 

THK  usual  route  to  the  Glen  House  is  by  railway  to  Glen  Station,  and 
thence  by  stage,  a  matter  of  nearly  sixteen  miles,  traversed  in  less  than 
four  hours.  The  road  leads  up  the  musical  Ellis  valley  and  by  Good- 
rich Falls  to  Jackson,  passing  the  Iron-Mountain  House  and  the  Glen- 
Kllis  House.  Beyond  Jackson,  the  way  grows  narrow  and  picturesque, 
overhanging  the  brawling  Ellis,  and  giving  occasional  impressive  views  of 
the  mountains  in  front,  the  vast  ridges  and  ravines  of  Washington.  A  few 
lonely  houses  are  seen  in  the  narrow  glen,  and  ancient  forests  crown  the 
adjacent  acclivities.  From  the  old  Rogers  farm  and  the  Cook  farm,  high  up 
the  valley,  there  are  magnificent  views  of  the  frowning  mountains  ahead. 
After  a  long  climb  to  the  top  of  Spruce  Hill,  twelve  hundred  feet  higher 
than  Jackson,  the  road  leaves  the  Ellis,  and  begins  a  descent  of  four  miles, 
past  the  entrance  to  Tuckennan's  Ravine,  and  down  the  course  of  the  Pea- 
body  River,  to  the  Glen  I  louse.  From  several  points  on  this  reach  there 
are  very  impressive  views  of  Mount  Washington,  especially  up  the  dark 
shadows  of  Tuckennan's  Ravine,  whose  huge  snow-banks  may  be  seen  from 
the  road,  far  into  the  summer.  After  this  wild  and  impressive  ride  down 
the  Pinkham  Xotch,  through  the  very  heart  of  mountain  sublimity,  the  bright 
meadows  around  the  Glen,  and  the  great  hotel  itself,  with  its  refinements  of 
modern  architecture,  have  a  particularly  cheerful  and  attractive  appearance. 
Whatever  may  be  the  excellences  of  the  views  from  other  points  in  the 
White  Mountains,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  prospect  from  the 
piax/as  of  the  Glen  I  louse  is  without  an  equal,  in  its  marvellous  majesty  of 
general  ettect  and  special  detail.  No  longer  veiled  by  leagues  ot  atmos- 
phere, or  dimmed  bv  the  heat  and  ha/e  of  summer,  the  five  sovereign  peaks 
sweep  proudly  into  the  blue  sky,  sharply  defined  and  noblv  outlined,  and 
fairlv  glittering  in  the  crystalline  air  of  this  great  altitude.  (  >n  the  left,  the 
remote  crest  of  Washington,  peering  over  a  huge  lower  peak:  next,  the 
rugged  humps  ot  ('lay;  then  the  conspicuous  rnckv  crown  of  feiferson,  the 
magnificent  gray  pyramid  of  Adams,  the  graceful  dome  of  Madison:  ai.  1  the 
pale-blue  Gorham  hills  close  the  vista  on  the  north.  The  tiv<  threat  piaks 
form  a  broad  curve,  opening  toward  the  Glen,  and  with  an  admirable  group- 
ing; for  artistic  effect. 


34 

The  first  Glen  House,  built  thirty-five  years  ago  by  J.  M.  Thompson,  of 
Portland,  was  mainly  used  by  wayfarers  on  the  Pinkham-Notch  road,  but 
occasionally  welcomed  a  few  summer-travellers.  This  primitive  hostelry  in 
due  time  gave  way  to  the  Glen  House,  whose  white  walls  shone  out  with 
such  hospitable  cheeriness  against  the  massed  greenery  of  the  Carter  range, 
welcoming  thousands  of  travellers  from  all  parts  of  the  Union.  In  1884, 
the  valley  was  lighted  up  by  the  conflagration  of  this  famous  hotel,  which 


NEAK   THE   GLKN    HOUSE.       (rEACODY    RIVER.) 

sank,  a  mournful  rum,  in  an  ama/ingly  brief  space  of  time,  l!ut  the  demands 
of  summer-travel  were  too  pressing  to  allow  this  unrivalled  site  to  remain 
unimproved,  and  so,  within  a  brief  season,  the  handsome  old-Knglish  walls 
and  towers  of  the  present  Glen  House  were  reared,  ''is-i'i-T'is  with  the  great 
Presidential  Range.  Inside,  there  are  broad  >tone  fireplaces,  fed  generously 
from  the  trees  of  the  tore.-t  :  spacious  halls  and  parlors:  and  an  abiding  air 
of  luxui'v  and  refinement. 


35 

The  atmospheric  and  cloud  effects  of  the  Glen  are  unsurpassed  for  their 
variety  and  beauty, —  the  magnificent  sunsets  behind  "the  Patriot  Range;" 
the  surging  of  clouds  in  the  depths  of  the  Great  Gulf;  the  mystical  twilights, 
with  golden  and  roseate  clouds  shining  through  the  cool  air;  the  starry 
nights,  with  the  hori/on  narrowed  by  high  ebon  peaks.  And  there  are 
people  who  lavish  praises  on  the  sunrise  pageants,  when  the  morning  light 
breaks  over  the  Carter  range,  and  floods  the  lonely  westward  peaks  with  an 
ineffable  glory.  It  is  of  course  open  to  question  whether  the  testimony  of 
eccentric  persons  who  will  get  out  of  bed  in  the  small  hours,  merely  to  see  a 
sunrise,  is  worthy  of  entire  credence. 

For  many  years,  Josh  Billings  spent  his  summers  here,  in  ardent  pursuit 
of  the  trout  in  the  adjacent  mountain-brooks. 

"  To  charm  the  fish  he  never  spoke, 

Although  his  voice  was  fine, 
He  thought  the  most  convenient  way 
Was  just  to   drop  a  line." 

He,  indeed,  was  an  early  riser,  and  would  sometimes  return  to  the  hotel  by 
mid-forenoon  with  an  enviable  string  of  delicious  trout. 

The  Glen  is  famous  for  its  bright  and  abundant  flowers,  —  the  lovely 
blue  harebells,  the  opal  and  rose-tinted  Indian  pipes,  the  pink-tipped  white 
tortoise-plant,  the  delicate  dog's-bane,  purple  asters,  golden-rod,  white  and 
pink  spira?a,  and  many  other  members  of  the  floral  family.  Farther  up  the 
mountain-road  appear  Lapland  rhododendrons,  the  rare  purple  campion, 
starry  white  sandwort,  Labrador  tea,  and  other  quite  unusual  semi-alpine 
flowers,  so  hardy  that  they  bloom  amid  ice  and  snow,  and  identical  with  the 
gallant  little  plants  that  make  the  brief  summers  of  Northern  Labrador  so 
glorious. 

The  vicinity  of  the  Glen  is  rich  in  objects  of  interest,  quite  aside  from 
the  delightful  dining-room,  the  tennis-court,  or  the  flirtation-corner  of  the 
piazza.  Beautiful  view-points  abound  on  and  beyond  the  meadow  that  lies 
before  the  house;  or  up  in  the  clearings  to  the  eastward;  or  at  the  head  of 
the  path  on  Mount  Wild-cat;  or  along  the  brawling  stream  that  rushes  down 
the  valley,  with  its  Kmerald  Tool,  darkling  amid  bowers  of  sylvan  beauty, 
and  its  Garnet  Pools,  cut  deep  in  the  living  rock. 

It  is  about  an  hour's  brisk  walk  up  the  Notch  to  the  Crystal  Cascade 
(the  "  K.  K.,"  Barnabec  calls  it),  back  in  the  rich  deep  woods  below  Tucker- 
man's  Ravine,  where  the  Ellis  River  makes  a  series  of  foaming  leaps  over 
sixty  teet  of  gray  and  purple  rocks,  polished  to  glassy  smoothness,  or  car- 
peted with  thick  green  mosses.  About  a  mile  farther,  in  the  same  direction, 
are  the  Glen-Ellis  Falls,  the  most  beautiful  in  all  New  England,  where  the 
much-tormented  Ellis  takes  a  sheer  leap  of  seventy  feet,  from  the  top  of  a 
rocky  cliff,  falling  with  a  thunderous  roar  into  the  deep  green  poo!  below. 
and  wreathed  in  veils  of  white  spray.  Thompson's  Falls,  the  New-River 
I''. ills.  (  Isgood's  Cascade.-,  and  other  choice  bits  ot"  water-scenery  enrich  this 
region  with  their  varied  attractions,  and  form  satisfactory  excursion-points. 
People  who  are  ,iu\iou>  to  abandon  the  civili/.ed  delights  of  the  Glen  I  louse 


GT.EN-ELUS    FALLS. 


for  the  uncertain  chances  of  a 
camp  in  Carter  Notch  or  up 
in  the  Great  Gulf,  or  who 
wish  to  climb  up  Mount  Mad- 
ison, or  Carter  Dome,  must 
get  a  copy  of  T  i  c  k  n  o  r '  s 
"  White-Mountain  Guide.'' 

Tuckerman's  Ravine  re- 
ceived its  name  in  honor  of 
the  veteran  botanist,  Prof. 
Tuckerman,  who  spent  many 
seasons  among  the  White 
Hills,  in  search  of  the  rarer 
specimens  of  its  semi-alpine 
flora.  But  the  rustic  people 
in  the  neighboring  valleys 
have  a  simpler  theory  as  to 
its  meaning:  "It  's  cuz  't  '11 
tucker  a  man  clean  aout  afore 
he  gits  tew  the  eend  on  't." 
The  ravine  is  the  noblest 
piece  of  scenery  of  its  kind 
in  the  Eastern  States.  It  is  a 
vast  gorge  opening  into  the 
side  of  Mount  Washington, 
and  almost  surrounded  by 
stupendous  cliffs  of  andalu- 
site  slate,  a  thousand  feet 
high.  The  i-ntt'iirttge  is  of 
sombre  and  appalling  grand- 
eur, all  the  way  from  the 
black  Hermit  Lakes,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  ravine,  to  the 
glacier-like  snow-bank  which 
occupies  its  head  until  late 
in  August.  'I'here  are  two 
paths,  one  four  miles  long  to 
the  Summit  House,  from  the 
I'inkham-Xotch  road  near  the 
Crystal  Cascade,  and  one  six 
miles  long,  from  near  the 
two-mile  post  on  the  road 
up  Mount  Washington.  Hut 
miles  in  this  region  are  hardly 
more  than  figures  of  speech, 
and  the  inexpert  traveller 
mav  u-rkon  a  mile  an  hour, 
or  an  hour  to  a  mile,  a>  fairly 


37 

good  progress.  The  path  to  be  taken  should  be  the  one  latest  cleared  out 
and  in  general  use,  whichever  that  may  be.  The  two  paths  form  a  junction 
about  half  a  mile  before  reaching  Hermit  Lake,  where  there  is  a  comfort- 
able camp  built  by  the  Appalachian-Mountain  Club  for  public  use.  .Many 
a  party  has  spent  the  night  in  this  shelter,  to  fare  onward  next  morning  to 
the  summit.  The  great  Snow  Arch,  formed  by  a  stream  running  under  the 
glacier,  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  above  the  ponds,  surrounded  in  August 
by  the  flowers  that  bloom  in  the  spring  down  on  the  lowlands.  An  amaz- 
ing climb  of  half  an  hour  leads  thence  to  the  top  of  the  ravine  wall,  whence 
Appalachians  can  climb  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Washington  in  thirty- 
five  minutes,  and  ordinary  citizens  in  an  hour.  No  one  but  the  strong 
and  long-enduring  should  attempt  this  journey  up  Tuckcrman's  Ravine,  and 
for  such  it  will  always  remain  in  memory  as  an  event  of  unusual  sublimity. 
There  are  people  who  have  ascended  to  the  summit  through  the  Great  Gulf, 
a  distance  of  seven  miles,  much  of  the  way  along  a  rushing  icy  stream,  with 
a  more  or  less  vague  path  to  help,  when  it  can  be  found.  The  sturdy  young 
persons  who  wish  to  make  such  excursions  as  these  should  bring  up  from 
Boston  Prof.  W.  H.  Pickering's  "Walking-Guide  to  the  Mount- Washington 
Range."  And  always  make  a  start  early  in  the  morning,  with  companions, 
and  (if  possible)  with  a  guide  familiar  with  the  routes.  Already  several  lonely 
and  inexperienced  tourists  have  died  of  exhaustion  and  exposure  among  the 
grim  rocks  of  Mount  Washington.  The  carriage-road  up  the  mountain  is 
eight  and  a  half  miles  long,  and  is  climbed  by  the  stage  in  four  hours,  twice 
daily.  Good  walkers  can  make  the  ascent  in  an  hour  or  so  less,  unless 
they  wisely  linger  on  the  way  to  enjoy  the  marvellous  views.  Just  beyond 
the  tree-line  the  road  reaches  the  Half- Way  House,  and  thenceforward  it 
lies  in  the  open,  with  a  bewildering  variety  of  views,  continually  changing  as 
the  long  gradients  turn  in  different  directions.  This  line  and  costly  road 
was  built  in  1855-61,  replacing  the  old  four-mile  trail  by  which  our  ancestors 
climbed  to  the  crown  of  New  Kniiland. 


CHAPTER  V. 


GORHAM. 

THE  VILLAGE. —  OLD  TIMES  IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. —  MOUNT  MORIAH. — 
MOUNT  HAYES. —  BERLIN  FALLS. —  SHELIJURNE  AND  THE  LEAD-MINE 
BRIDGE. — A  GLIMPSE  FROM  RANDOLPH  HILL. 

A  PLEAS  ANT  road   leads  down  the  valley  of  the   Peabody  River  for 
eight  miles,  from  the  Glen  House  to  Gorham,  and  two  stages  make 
the  journey  daily.     Gorham  is  the  village  nearest  of  all  to  the  Presi- 
dential Range,  but  it  lies  embosomed  in  a  valley  along  the  Andro- 
scoggin  River,  and  the  mountain-views  must  be  sought  from  the  adjacent 
hills.     There  are  about  a  thousand  inhabitants  here,  with  a  bright  newspaper 
bearing  the  appropriate  name  of  "  The  Mountaineer."     A  third  of  a  century 
ago,  this  region  was  one  of   the  favorite   resorts  of   the  mountain-region, 
whence  Starr  King  and  his  friends  made  many  a  foray  into  the  heart  of  the 
highlands,   escorted    by  the   famous   Gorham   guides.     It  is  still  the    point 
where  many  tourists  from  Canada  and  from  Western  Maine  enter  the  hill- 
country,  over  the  Pinkham-Notch  route,  or  to  Jefferson  by  carriage. 

The  most  interesting  alpestrian  excursion  from  Gorham  is  that  to  the  top 
of  Mount  Moriah,  4,653  feet  high,  and  reached  by  a  path  nearly  five  miles 
long,  crossing  the  far-viewing  peak  of  Mount  Surprise  about  half-way  up. 
If  the  trail  is  in  good  order,  and  a  competent  guide  can  be  procured  (and  an 
early  start),  this  trip  will  be  memorable  for  its  beauty  and  oddity.  Just 
across  the  river  from  Gorham  is  the  rocky  Mount  Hayes,  ascended  by  a  path 
two  miles  long  and  commanding  an  extraordinary  view  of  the  Presidential 
Range,  and  perhaps  the  grandest  of  all  the  prospects  of  Mount  Washington. 
Another  point  of  resort  in  this  vicinity  is  Berlin  Falls,  six  miles  from 
Gorham,  up  the  Androscoggin,  either  by  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway,  or  by 
the  highway,  which  winds  along  by  the  rapid  and  winsome  river.  There  is 
a  large  village  near  the  falls,  gathered  around  the  mills  where  the  logs  from 
the  Umbagog  region  are  sawed  into  lumber.  At  Berlin  Falls,  the  swift 
Androscoggin,  the  outlet  of  Kangeley  Lakes  and  the  remote  forest-guarded 
Parmachenc,  rushes  impetuously  downward  through  a  narrow  canon  in  the 
dark  rocky  floor  of  the  valley,  in  successive  rapids  and  plunges,  a  resounding 
and  massive  fall,  wreathed  in  amber  foam,  and  buffeted  by  the  rugged  walls. 
The  Milan  road,  northward  from  I!eHin:  gives  a  succession  of  famous  views 
of  the  Presidential  Range,  from  river  the-  sleeping  river  and  its  green 
meadows. 

There   art-   two   inure  excursions   by  road   from  Gorham  which  reveal  snr 
prisinglv  tine  mountain   |'rr»perN.     <  >ne  of    the>e  leads  down    the   river  to 


39 

Shelburnc,  a  thinly-settled  town  of  which  five-sixths  is  covered  by  almost 
inaccessible  peaks  and  ridges, —  Baldcap,  Ingalls,  and  Moriah, —  while  the 
remaining  portion  occupies  the  rich  intervales  along  the  Androscoggin,  and 
contains  several  summer  boarding-houses  and  villas.  Here  also  are  the 
Dryad  Falls,  the  Dripping  Walls,  Dream  Lake,  and  other  points  of  interest, 
buried  in  the  quiet  forests  along  the  mountain-slopes.  The  view  from  the 
Lead-Mine  Bridge  has  been  celebrated  for  its  wonderful  beauty  for  more 
than  half  a  century,  and  includes  the  bright  river  and  its  fairy-like  islands, 
and  the  colossal  pyramids  of  Mount  Madison  and  Mount  Adams,  fitly  framed 
by  nearer  ranges. 

Five  miles  or  so  from   Gorham,   in  an    opposite  direction,  is   Randolph 
Hill,  with  its  grand  and  desolate  view  of  Madison  and  Adams  and   their 


deep  dark  ravines.  Here  arc  the  Ravine  and  Mount-Crescent  Houses,  with 
romantic  and  interesting  surroundings,  and  handy  to  the  Appalachian-Club 
path  up  the  northern  peaks  and  into  the  tremendous  depths  of  King's 
Ravine.  A  few  miles  farther  on,  by  this  same  road,  are  the  hotels  ot  (etfer- 
son  Hill. 

Gorham  may  be  reached  more  directly  by  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway, 
either  from  Portland,  where  it  connects  with  the  lloston  \'  Maine  line  from 
Boston,  or  from  Groveton  (unction,  in  the  upper  Connecticut  Vallev.  where 
it  meets  the  trains  of  the  Boston  \:  Lowell  Railroad,  from  Hvmnuth.  Little- 
ton, and  Lancaster. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  CRAWFORD  NOTCH. 

UPPER  BARTLETT. — A  LITTLE  ALBANY  RAILROAD. —  MOUNT  CARRIGAIN. 
—  KEMIS  STATION. —  THE  RUN  UP  THE  NOTCH  KY  RAILWAY. 

TOO  long  have  we  digressed  up  about  Jackson  and  the  Glen  House  and 
Gorham,  and  we  return  to  our  train  at  Glen  Station  ready  to  make  the 
famous  journey  through  Crawford  Notch,  the  grandest  railway  ride  in 
the  Atlantic  States.     Just  beyond  the  station  comes  the  bridge  across 
the  Ellis  River,  the  outflow  from  Tuckerman's  Ravine ;  and  away  up  to  the 
right  appears  the  sharp  cleft  of  Carter  Notch.     After  crossing  the  swift  and 
shallow  Saco,  and  ascending  the  narrowing  valley  for  six  miles,  between 


parallel  ridges  of  frowning  mountain^  we  reach  the  station  at  ISartlett  (the 
old-time  Upper  IJartlett),  where  we  change  our  point  of  view  to  seats  in  the 
open  observation-cars.  The  seats  on  the  right-hand  side  are  the  best,  liart- 
lett  also  has  a  station-restaurant,  where  luncheons  may  be  obtained.  As  to 
the  village,  it  is  almost  environed  by  huge  peaks,  bearing  homely  New-Eng- 
land names,  and  sometimes  visited  bv  sturdy  climbers.  The  great  feature  is 
Mount  Carrigain,  looming  out  of  the  wilderness  to  the  westward  in  most 
imposing  proportions  and  forming  a  picture  of  perennial  fascination.  So 


remarkable  is  this  view,  that  great  artists  have  come  up  hither  to  paint  it; 
and  some  years  ago  the  New-Hampshire  Legislature  incorporated  a  "Mount- 
Carrigain  Hotel  Company,''  to  erect  a  summer-resort  here.  Like  many 
another  scheme,  this  corporation  stopped  short  of  its  ideal ;  and  visitors  to 
the  quiet  highland  village  must  sojourn  at  a  comfortable  inn  of  the  old  style. 
The  Albany  Railroad  runs  from  Bartlett  southward  into  the  primeval 
wilderness  between  the  Saco  River  and  the  Swift  River,  half  a  dozen  miles 
or  more,  passing  through  the  notch  between  ISear  Mountain  and  Silver- 
Spring  Mountain.  It  is  a  private  line,  intended  to  bring  the  timber  from  the 
unbroken  forests  of  Albany  down  to  Hartlett,  where  one  of  the  best  saw-mill 
plants  in  Xew  Hampshire  is  in  active  operation. 


The  Sawyer's-River  Railroad  i  nn>  into  the  I'emigewasset  wilderness 
from  Livermore  station,  \\est  of  Ilartlett;  and  ends  at  the  lumbering-settle- 
ment of  l.ivermore  Mills.  From  this  point  the  tortuous  path  ascends  Mount 
Carrigain.  It  was  made  by  ( ieorge  1  .  *  'rawford.  in  iSSS.  and  is  not  quite 
three  miles  long.  There  is  much  wild  and  grand,  scenery  in  this  region 
of  I.ivennore.  and  plenty  of  tishing  and  .uniting;  but  the  route>  are  c»ntined 
to  a  ma/.e  of  logging-roads,  and  the  hori/ons  are  rather  narrow.  A  bridle- 
path some  ten  miles  or  so  in  length  leads  iiom  Livermorc  Mills  through 
a  wild  region  of  woods  and  mountain.-,  to  the  hamlet  of  Waterville.  down 
on  the  edge  ot  the  Lake  (  ountiy.  Hut  it  is  not  alwavs  sau-  to  travel,  e.-pe- 
ciallv  alter  a  stormy  winter  has  hidden  parts  ot  it  under  talicn  trees. 

Heyond  Martlet!,  the  railroad  sweeps  around  the  gnat  ber.d  of  tlu-  \allev, 
and  begins  a  steeper  a-ivnt.  with  impressive  \iew-  ot  tin.-  mountain-peaks  on 


42 

all  sides.  Sawyer's  Rock  and  Nancy's  Brook,  with  their  quaint  and  pathetic 
legends,  are  passed,  and  then  we  come  to  Beinis  station,  near  the  old  and 
long-since-abandoned  Mount-Crawford  Hduse.  This  is  in  the  centre  of 
Hart's  Location,  a  wilderness-tract  of  many  thousands  of  acres,  granted 
before  the  Revolutionary  War,  by  Gov.  Wentworth,  to  Thomas  Chadbourne, 
a  gallant  veteran  of  the  Indian  wars,  and  sold  by  him  for  fifteen  hundred 
dollars,  to  Richard  Hart.  Nearly  a  century  ago,  a  primitive  inn  was  opened 
here  by  Abel  Crawford,  the  patriarch  of  the  mountains,  who  spent  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  amid  these  wild  and  lonely  glens,  living  to  see  them 
visited  by  a  steadily  increasing  company  of  summer-tourists.  In  later  years, 
—  along  among  the  forties, —  X.  T.  I*.  Davis  became  the  landlord,  and  built 


THE   MOUNTAINS,    FROM    UPPER    BARTLETT. 

a  new  bridle-path  up  Mount  Washington,  over  the  now  unvisited  Montalban 
Ridge,  and  bv  Mount  Isolation.  In  those  days,  the  inn  was  frequented  by 
Ripley,  Starr  King,  Daniel  Webster,  and  other  famous  men,  who  enjoyed 
the  fishing  to  be  found  in  the  mountain-brooks.  Nearly  fifty  years  ago,  the 
domain,  with  all  its  miles  of  rugged  highlands,  passed  into  the  possession  of 
Dr.  Samuel  liemis,  a  wealthy  and  eccentric  Moston  dentist,  who  built  the 
stone  maiiMon  near  the  station,  and  lived  here  until  his  death,  in  iSSi.  For 
many  years,  the  glen  has  been  deserted  by  summer-travellers,  who  find  here 
no  accommodations  for  boarding. 

llovond   the  picture><|ue  Crawford  Glen,  the   railway  strikes  a  very  lu-avv 
up-grade  of   116  feet  to  the  mile,  and  labors  along  the  slopes  of  tremendous 


43 

cliffs,  with  the  red  peak  of  Mount  Crawford  visible  across  the  valley,  and  the 
huge  treads  of  the  Giant's-Stairs  Mountain,  clear-cut  against  the  eastern  sky. 
Suddenly  it  appears  to  rest  on  the  air  alone,  as  a  profound  ravine  is  crossed 
on  a  spider-web  trestle  of  iron,  and  the  vast  walls  of  Frankenstein  Cliff  over- 


hung tin;  Hue  ahead.  Au.iv  up  at  tin-  head  ot"  the  Muunt-Washington 
River's  unexplored  ravine  ^liinnuT-  the  peak  <>!  Mount  Washington,  and 
tar  below,  in  the  bottom  "1  the  Sain  Yailev.  the'  tops  ( it'  tlie  tall  tree-  ave 
inier\\o\eii  like  the  ^ras>  i  <\  an  inn  ut  l.i\\n.  It  i~  a  l<ah-h.Hir  ot'  iire.it  excite- 


44 

ment,  the  crown  and  culmination  of  a  long  journey,  and  famous  mountains 
come  into  view  one  after  another,  —  Crawford,  Webster,  Jackson,  Willey, 
Willard, —  each  with  its  well-marked  peak  and  shaggy  slopes.  As  the  train 
glides  along  its  airy  shelf,  high  up  on  the  shoulder  of  Mount  Willey,  a  little 
clearing  appears  far  below  in  the  valley,  and  in  it  a  white  building,  looking 
inexpressibly  lonely.  This  is  the  historic  Willey  House,  one  of  the  ancient 
White-Mountain  taverns,  and  the  scene  of  the  most  woful  catastrophe  in  the 
annals  of  this  region.  The  Crawford  (or  White-Mountain)  Notch  extends 
from  this  point  to  the  Gate,  near  the  Crawford  House,  a  distance  of  three 
miles ;  and  the  railway  terrace  swings  around  the  huge  flanks  of  Mount 
Willey,  and  then  along  the  purple  precipices  of  Mount  Willard,  fronted 
across  the  gorge  by  the  prolonged  steep  slope  of  Mount  Webster,  banded 
by  the  tracks  of  many  avalanches,  and  adorned  by  the  veil-like  falling  waters 
of  the  Crystal  Cascade.  Finally,  a  magnificent  prospect  opens  down  the 
long  and  trough-like  Saco  Valley,  closed  by  the  remote  blue  peaks  toward 
the  Swift  River.  Then  follows  a  rush  through  the  Gate  of  the  Notch,  and 
suddenly  the  scene  changes,  from  the  profounclest  forest-desolation  and 
mountain-majesty  to  the  sunny  beauty  of  open  lawns  and  laughing  waters, 
pleasure-boats  and  carriages,  and  a  great  hospitable  hotel,  —  the  famous  old 
Crawford  House. 

I!y  nuiple  orchards,  belts  of  pine 

And  larches  climbing  darkly 
The  mountain  slopes,  and,  over  all, 

The  great  peaks  rising  starkly. 


How  through  each  pass  and  hollow 


Rivers  of  gold-mist  flowing  down 
From  far  celestial  fountains,— 

The  great  .-un  flaming  through  the  rift-; 
Beyond  the  wall  of  mountains! 

—  John  C.rccnu-,,/ 


45 


46 


CHAPTER   VII. 

CRAWFORD'S. 

THE  FAMOUS  HOTEL.  —  BEKCHER'S  CASCADES.  —  AMMONOOSUC  LAKE. — 
MOUNT  WILLAKD. —  THE  RIPLEY  FALLS  AND  ARETHUSA  FALLS.— 
MOUNT  WILLEV.  —  THE  WILLEY  TRAGEDY.  —  THE  PATH  UP  MOUNT 
WASHINGTON. 

THE  Crawford  House  is  one  of  the  central  shrines  in  these  great  moun- 
tain-cloisters, and  is  rich  in  its  picturesque  and  varied  surroundings, 
and  the  electrically  invigorating  air  of  an  altitude  of  nineteen  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea.     From  the  long  front  piazzas  you  look  across  the 
broad  lawn,  with  sparkling  fountains,  to  the  sharply-cut  Gate  of  the  Notch, 
formed   of  the   broken   slope   of    Mount   Jackson   on   one   side   and   Mount 
Willard  on  the  other,  with  the  tremendous  mass  of  Mount  Webster  full  in 
sight  beyond,  a  magnificent  and  imposing  spectacle. 

There  are  numerous  forest-hidden  brooks  in  this  vicinity, —  the  Crawford, 
Upper  Saco,  Ammonoosuc,  and  others, — where  fishermen,  following  down 
their  wayward  courses,  amid  scenery  of  the  wildest  and  grandest  character, 
find  goodly  quantities  of  mountain-trout. 

Uesides  the  greater  excursions,  of  which  the  hotel  is  the  centre,  there  are 
many  pleasant  objective  points  for  meditative  strolls  amid  the  sylvan  sur- 
roundings. You  may  ramble  down  the  Raymond  path  to  the  gushing  crys- 
talline fountain  known  as  the  Merrill  Spring;  or  peep  into  the  quaint  studio- 
building  of  Shapleigh,  the  landscape-painter;  or  picnic  upon  1'ugle  Cliff,  on 
the  high  slope  of  Mount  Jackson;  or  visit  the  old  well  and  cellar  and  rose- 
bushes marking  the  site  of  the  ancient  tavern,  down  near  the  Gate  of  t he- 
Notch ;  or  stroll  in  the  afternoon  down  to  Ammonoosuc  Lake,  and  get 
the  famous  view  of  Mount  Washington  from  the  Red  liench  (located  by 
Shapleigh);  or  find  the  dimpled  pools  and  pleasant  woodlands  along  Pearl 
P.rook;  or  climb  up  Mount  Tom,  by  the  new  path,  and  get  its  wonderful 
prospect  down  the  Carrigain  Notch  and  the  I'emigewasset  wilderness;  or 
breathe  the  perfume  from  the  rhodora  at  the  base  of  Mount  Willard;  or 
stroll  along  the  old  Notch  road  to  the  Flume  Cascade  and  Silver  Cascade, 
and  look  up  at  the  Devil's  Den,  and  down  at  the  black  Dismal  Pool  ;  or  do  a 
little  easy  boating  on  Saco  Lake;  or  clamber  up  to  Gibbs's  Falls,  on  the 
slope  of  Mount  Clinton;  or  peer  into  the  Notch  from  the  crag  of  Elephant's 
Head,  just  beyond  Saeo  Lake. 

1'eccher's  Cascades,  in  the  pleasant  wood-;  across  the  railroad,  are  a 
series  of  pretty  falls,  on  a  brook  (lowing  down  from  the  mountain,  with 
manv  an  intervening  pool  of  rrvslal  water.  Il  i>  averred  that  the  I'.rcat 


4? 


Hrooklyn  divine  from  whom  they  get  their  name  once  slipped  from  the 
palli,  and  took  an  involuntary  hath  in  one  of  these  limpid  basins,  greatly  to 
his  discomposure.  From  above  the  uppermost  fall  there  is  a  lovely  view  of 
the  distant  Mount  Washington;  and  a  path  runs  off  in  this  vicinity  to  strike 
the  Mount-Willard  road,  high  up  on  that  interesting  mountain. 

Ammonoosuc  Lake,  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene,  set  in  the  deep  forest  back 
of  the  Crawford,  was  built  about  the  year  1858,  when  the  constructors  of  the 
present  hotel  (just  then  being  erected  to  replace  the  older  inn,  burned  down 
the  previous  winter)  reared  here  a  dam  and  saw-mill,  where  the  timber  for 
the  new  hotel  was  sawed.  For  many  years  after  its  practical  use  ceased  the 
pond  remained  forgotten,  and  when  it  was  restored  to  memory  it  become  one 
of  the  chief  local  attractions.  A  pleasant  forest-walk  leads  to  its  shores, 
which  are  surrounded  with  gravel  walks;  and  comfortable  seats  provide 
resting-places  for 
summer-day  idlers. 
The  mill  has  long 
since  mouldered 
away,  and  the  dam 
is  an  indistinguish- 
able bank  of  gravel. 
The  most  im- 
pressive and  inter- 
esting of  the  short 
excursions  herea- 
bouts leads  in  two 
miles,  by  a  good 
carriage-road,  t  o 
the  top  of  .Mount 
Willard  ;  and  when 
one  emerges  Irom 
the  thick  woods  up- 
on the  verge  ot  the 
v  a  s  t  p  r  e  c  i  p  i  c  e 

which  fail>  away  toward  the  Sam,  he  gains  one  of  the  finest  po.-siblc  bird's- 
eve  views  of  a  great  mountain-pass,  where  road  and  railway  and  winding 
liver  and  ic\\el-likc  cascades  glimmer  out  from  a  curving  sea  of  green.  At 
the  uid  ni  this  remarkable  vi.Ma  is  the  ghostly  white  peak  of  ('hocorua,  d<>\\n 
in  the  Lake  Country;  and  in  the  other  direction,  Mount  Washington  lilts 
its  noble  term  tar  into  the  blue  sky.  The  most  famous  of  \\hite-.Mountain 
explorer-  counsels  people  to  visit  Mount  Willard  late  in  the  ai tcrnoon,  to 
-tudv  and  enjov  the  wonderful  shadow  elicits  in  the  Xotch.  The  man  t«r 
whom  so  noble  a  monument  as  this  mountain  is  named  was  b'seph  \\  illard. 
clerk  of  ihr  Court  of  Common  I'leas  for  Suffolk  County  (Mass.).  who 
climbed  to  its  Mimmit,  \\ith  Tom  Crawford,  in  iS|(">.  thev  being  the  lir.-t 
persons  who  ever  looked  from  thi>  peak.  ( 'rawford  gave  the  name.  A  path 
wa<  made  in  iS.|8.  and  a  road  in  iS;;. 

Six    miles  down   the    Xoie'n   are   the   famous    UipK  \    I-'aiK.   on    Axalanehe 


Brook,  high  up  on  Mount  Willey,  and  reached  by  a  foot-path  f.om  the  neigh- 
boring flag-station  on  the  railway.  Farther  down,  on  the  Bemis  Brook,  are 
the  magnificent  Arethusa  Falls,  176  feet  high,  amid  fine  forest-scenery. 
They  are  only  a  mile  from  the  railway,  but  there  is  no  path,  and  so  they  are 
very  rarely  visited. 

The  great  range  that  emvalls  the  Crawford  valley  on  the  west  is  eight 
miles  long,  from  the  Ammonoosuc  lowlands  to  the  plateau  beyond  Mount 
Willey,  and  contains  Mount  Tom,  named  after  Tom  Crawford,  the  proprietor 
of  the  ancient  Notch  House ;  Mount  Field,  commemorating  Darby  Field, 
the  first  white  visitor  to  Mount  Washington  (in  1642) ;  and  Mount  Willey,  a 
noble  alpine  peak,  ascended  by  an  Appalachian-Club  path  one  and  a  half 
miles  long,  leaving  the  railway  a  little  way  south  of  the  flag-station  at 
Moore's  Brook.  This  sequestered  summit  commands  a  singularly  interesting 
view  over  the  great  Pemigewasset  wilderness,  and  along  the  Presidential 
Range,  and  down  to  Kiarsarge,  Chocorua,  Carrigain,  Osceola,  Moosilauke, 
and  many  mountains  of  Vermont  and  Maine.  At  the  base  of  this  lordly 


peak,  on  the  old  highway  through  the  Notch,  stands  the  Willey  House,  thiei- 
miles  from  the  Crawford.  Here  dwelt  Samuel  Willey,  jun.,  with  his  wife 
and  five  children  and  two  hired  men,  managing  a  tavern  for  the  farmers  of 
the  Coos  country  on  their  way  to  and  from  Portland.  In  August.  1826,  a 
great  landslide  came  down  from  Mount  Willey,  and  the  inmates  of  the  house, 
fleeing  forth  in  dismay,  were  overtaken  and  crushed  to  death  by  the  switt 
avalanche.  Nothing  was  ever  found  of  three  of  the  children,  but  the  mutil- 
ated bodies  of  the  other  six  persons  were  recovered.  The  house  remained 
intact,  and  is  visited  by  thousands  of  tourists  every  summer. 

The  last  great  excursion  from  the  Crawford  House,  and  one  of  the  most 
attractive  :md  least  easy  in  this  region,  is  that  which  leads  over  the  Crawford 
Path  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Washington.  This  route  was  built  by  Tom 
( 'rawford  in  iS.jo.  and  over  it  Abel  <  'rawford  rode  the  first  horse  that  reached 
the  top  of  Washington.  For  many  ve.irs  it  was  used  as  a  bridle-path,  over 
which  travellers  ascended  on  horseback  :  but  since  the  mountain  has  been 
made  more  easily  acce.-siblc  from  other  points,  the  use  of  horses  has  been 


49 

abandoned.  Good  climbers,  en  <t  clt-iir  day,  can  make  this  royal  journey  to 
great  advantage,  but  several  ghastly  fatalities  have  resulted  from  inexperi- 
enced and  unguided  tourists  attempting  the  trip  on  days  of  cloud  or  mist. 
The  chief  points  of  the  route  are  as  follows  :  Three  miles  of  hard  climbing 
through  the  woods  to  the  upper  shoulder  of  Mount  Clinton;  one  and  three- 
quarters  miles  along  the  bare  ridge,  with  noble  views  on  either  side,  to 
Mount  Pleasant  (whose  dome-like  grassy  top  may  be  ascended,  or  flanked) ; 
three-quarters  of  a  mile,  by  Red  Pond,  and  around  the  profound  ravine  of 
Oakes's  Gulf,  to  Mount  Franklin;  one  and  a  quarter  miles,  around  Oakes's 
Gulf,  to  Mount  Monroe  (whose  fine  castellated  peaks  should  be  visited,  by 
an  easy  detour);  one  and  three-quarters  miles,  with  the  bare  plateau  of 
Boott's  Spur  on  the  right  and  the  Lakes  of  the  Clouds  on  the  left,  and  then 
a  breathless  clamber  upward  over  the  rocky  cone,  to  the  Summit  House.  It 
is  a  wonderful  trip,  full  of  impressive  silence  and  solitude,  abounding  in  in- 
spiring views,  and  in  all  its  bearings  so  unusual  and  astonishing  as  to  form  a 
permanent  enrichment  to  the  memory. 

Upon  our  loftiest  White-Mountain  peak, 

Filled  with  the  freshness  of  untainted  air, 
We  sat,  nor  cared  to  listen  or  to  speak 

To  one  another,  for  the  silence  there 
Was  eloquent  with  God's  presence.     Not  a  sound 

Uttered  the  winds  in  their  unhindered  sweep 
Above  us  through  the  heavens.     The  ;;ulf  profound 

Below  us  seethed  with  mists,  a  sullen  deep, 
From  thawless  ice-caves  of  a  vast  ravine 
Rolled  sheeted  clouds  across  the  lands  unseen. 

How  far  away  seemed  all  that  we  had  known 

In  homely  levels  of  the  earth  beneath, 
Who  whispered  unto  us  nf  life  and  deatli 

As  silence  closed  upon  our  hearts  once  more? 
On  heights  where  angels  sit,  perhaps  a  breath 

May  clear  the  separating  gulfs:   a  door 
May  open  sometimes  betwixt  earth  and  heaven, 

And  life's  most  haunting  mystery  be  shown 
A  fog-drift  of  the  mind,  scattered  and  driven 

Before  the  winds  of  Cod:    no  vague  unknown 
Heath'-,  dreaded  path,  — only  a  curtained  stair; 
And  heaven  but  earth  raised  into  purer  air. 

— Lucy  Liirct'tH. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

p 

FABYAN'S. 

THE  FATCYAN  HOUSE.— MOUNT  DECEPTION. —  OLD-TIME  LANDLORDS.— 
THE  MOUNT-PLEASANT  HOUSE. —  THE  WHITE-MOUNTAIN  HOUSE.— 
THE  TWIN-MOUNTAIN  HOUSE. 

FOUR  miles  from  the  Crawford  House,  where  the  Ammonoosuc  River 
flows  clown  between  the  high  hills  of  Mount  Rosebrook  and  Mount 
Deception,  stands  the  great  Fabyan  House,  with  its  famous  dining- 
room  and  pleasant  halls.  In  front  is  the  junction-point  of  the  railways 
that  meet  on  this  mountain-plateau, —  the  lines  from  Boston,  Lowell  and 
Littleton,  from  Portland  and  North  Conway,  from  Northern  Vermont,  and 
from  the  base  of  Mount  Washington.  At  certain  hours  of  the  day  this 
locality  affords  a  scene  of  the  most  lively  human  interest,  when  trains  come 
in  from  various  distant  points,  crowded  with  tourists,  and  groaning  under 
tons  of  Saratoga  trunks.  For  Fabyan's  is  the  great  railroad  centre  of  the 
mountain-country,  and  all  roads  lead  hitherward.  This  fact  forms  one  of 
the  main  attractions  of  the  place,  because  excursions  can  be  made  thence 
with  great  ease  to  all  the  points  of  interest  for  many  miles  around. 

Across  the  serene  highland  plain  to  the  eastward,  a  vast  expanse  of  virgin 
forest,  the  tremendous  line  of  the  Presidential  Range  cuts  into  the  clear  sky, 
within  an  air-line  distance  of  little  more  than  two  leagues.  The  view  of  this 
majestic  range,  toward  sunset,  is  full  of  imprcssiveness  and  beauty. 

The  wooded  peak  in  front  of  the  Fabyan  is  Mount  Deception,  whose 
name  attests  that  its  real  height  is  much  greater  than  it  appears.  A  path 
leads  through  its  forest-covered  sides  to  the  summit,  whence  the  explorer 
may  gain  an  interesting  and  extensive  prospect. 

The  Fabyan  House  stands  in  the  great  domain  known  as  Nash  and  Saw- 
yer's Grant,  in  memory  of  two  old  border-hunters  who  discovered  the  Craw- 
ford Notch,  and  were  rewarded  by  Gov.  Wentworth  with  a  grant  of  over 
two  thousand  acres  of  land.  This  occurred  before  the  Revolutionary  War, 
and  the  cession  of  territory  was  made  in  the  name  of  King  George  III.  In 
the  Fabyan  vicinitv  stood  a  singular  alluvial  mound  three  hundred  feet  long. 
which  the  indigenous  Indians  revered  as  the  Giant's  Grave.  In  179.:,  C'apt. 
Flea/.ar  Rosebrook  came  down  from  Vermont  and  settled  here;  and  in  1803 
his  grandson.  Lthan  Allen  Crawford,  "the  giant  of  the  hills,"  opened  a  tav- 
ern near  the  site  of  the  present  Fubyan.  This  house  was  burned  in  1819. 
Its  successor  passed  into  the  possession  of  Mr.  Fabvan.  a  citi/.eii  of  Portland, 
in  i'\)7,  and  was  burned  in  18^3.  The  present  hntel  dates  from  ^7^-73. 
and  its  landlord  until  1878  was  John  Lindsey.  one  of  the  old  stage-drivers  of 


these  mountain-roads.  The  graves  of  Capt.  Rosebrook  and  Ethan  Allen 
Crawford  are  marked  by  monuments,  in  the  little  cemetery  not  far  from 
the  hotel. 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  Fabyan  stands  the  Mount-Pleasant  House, 
built  in  1876.  The  view  includes  the  entire  mass  of  Mount  Washington, 
from  base  to  summit,  seen  across  the  broad  Ammonoosuc  plain;  and  the 
curves  of  the  mountain-railway  are  visible,  and  the  little  train  crawling  up 
the  mighty  peak. 

A  mile  or  so  below  the  Fabyan  is  the  ancient  White-Mountain  House, 
built  in  the  long  ago  of  1845,  by  one  of  the  younger  Rosebrooks,  and  still 
kept  open  as  a  summer-hotel.  Here  the  so-called  Cherry-Mountain  road 
turns  away  to  the  northward  from  the  Ammonoosuc  Valley,  and  crosses  the 
high  slopes  of  Cherry  Mountain  to  Jefferson  Hill,  in  seventeen  miles.  .  Half 
a  mile  or  so  below  the  hotel  are  the  ruins  of  the  once  famous  Lower  Am- 
monoosuc Falls. 

Five  miles  below  Fabyan's  by  railway  or  road,  and  at  the  point  where 
the  road  to  Carroll  and  Whitefield  leaves  the  valley,  stands  the  Twin- 
Mountain  House,  facing  the  huge  North  Twin  Mountain,  and  with  views 
also  of  Mounts  Hale,  Garfield,  Lafayette,  and  Agassiz.  The  Appalachian 
Club  in  1882  had  a  path  made  to  the  North  Twin,  some  six  miles  from  the 
hotel,  and  on  one  of  the  grandest  mountain-ranges  of  the  Pemigewasset 
wilderness. 

The  Twin-Mountain  House  dates  from  1869,  and  for  some  years  was  the 
summer-home  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  Yice-President  Wheeler,  and  other 
famous  men. 


53 


CHAPTER   IX. 

MOUNT   WASHINGTON. 

THK  MOUNTAIN  RAILWAY. — THE  HAMLET  ON  THK  SUMMIT. — THE  VIEW. 

WK  have  already  ascended  the  chief  peak  of  Xcw  England  from  the 
(Hen  House  and  the  Crawford  House;  and  it  remains  to  make 
the  climb  in  the  easiest  of  all  ways, —  by  the  railroad.  Six  miles 
from  the  Eabyan  House,  by  road  or  railroad,  beyond  the  beautiful 
Upper  Ammonoosuc  Ealls  and  the  Twin-River  Farm,  is  the  little  hotel  at 
Marshficld,  or  Ammonoosuc,  2,563  feet  above  the  sea,  and  within  less  than 
three  miles  of  the  summit  of  Mount  Washington.  Lumbermen  sojourn  here 
in  winter,  and  trout-fishers  in  summer.  Near  this  point  the  mountain-railway 
begins,  and  reaches  the  summit  in  almost  exactly  three  miles,  the  average 
grade  being  1,300  feet  to  the  mile,  the  highest  grade  1,980  feet  to  the  mile. 
Two  trains  make  daily  ascents,  in  an  hour  and  a  half.  This  phenomenal  line 
was  invented  and  built  by  Sylvester  Marsh,  of  Littleton,  between  1866  and 
1869,  the  first  cost  having  been  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars.  The 
cars  arc  pushed  up  by  an  odd  little  hump-backed  locomotive;  and  several 
practically  infallible  mechanical  appliances  render  it  impossible  for  them  to 
slip  down  the  grade.  Nearly  two  hundred  thousand  persons  have  ascended 
by  this  road,  without  loss  of  life.  The  train  creeps  upward  through  the 
woods,  and  in  about  a  mile  reaches  the  tank  at  Cold  Spring.  The  next  tank 
is  at  Waumbek  Junction,  where  the  old  Jefferson-Hill  bridle-path  met  the 
Eabyan  Path.  At  Jacob's  Ladder  there  is  a  long  and  lofty  trestle,  where  *'  . 
track  attains  its  steepest  grade;  and  beyond,  above  the  tree-line,  v  run 
along  near  the  rocky  mounds  of  Mount  C'ny,  and  reach  the  C.ulf  Tank.  It 
is  a  mile  from  Jacob's  Ladder  to  the  summit,  and  the  rise  is  only  eight  hun- 
dred feet,  over  a  long  slope  covcre-.l  with  arctic  desolation,  frost-shattered 
rocks,  reindeer  moss,  and  the  flowers  cf  G  eenland.  The  views,  ever  broad- 
ening and  changing,  are  indescribable  in  their  vastness,  and  cover  half  of 
Xcw  England. 

(  in  this  great  peak,  6.293  feet  above  the  sea,  are  several  buildings,  chief 
of  which  are  the  spacious  Summit  House,  the  newspaper-office  of  ''Among 
the  Clouds,'1  the  old  Tip-Top  House,  the  railway  engine-house,  the  observa- 
tory for  many  years  used  by  the  observers  of  the  United-States  Signal 
Service,  and  the  dlen-I  louse  stables. 

besides  the  railway  and  the  (lien-  louse  carriage-road,  there  are  four 
'oot-paths  to  the  summit, —  from  the  C'l  iwford  II.  msc.  up  Tuckcrm-in's  Ra- 
vine, over  the-  Northern  Peaks,  and  froi  i  the  Eabvan  ,-idc.  None  .if  these 
should  be  undertaken  liv  amateur  mountaineers,  as  thev  mav  be  easilv  lost. 


54 


55 

Plenty  of  warm  wraps  should  be  taken  up,  even  in  August.  Many  people 
come  up  on  the  afternoon  train  and  spend  the  night  at  the  hotel ;  rising  at 
four  in  the  morning  to  see  the  magnificent  sunrise.  The  best  time  for  the 
ascent  is  after  a  rainy  season,  when  the  wind  is  north-west. 

The  view  from  Mount  Washington  is  of  amazing  extent  and  variety,  and 
is  minutely  described  in  ten  close-set  pages  of  Ticknor's  "White-Mountain 
Guide-Book,"  with  a  detailed  panorama.  An  hour's  study  with  these  helps 
reduces  the  chaotic  and  lawless  scene  to  comprehensibility  and  geographical 
order.  The  outer  points  visible  include  Mount  Megantic  and  several  other 
Canadian  border-peaks;  the  Rangeley  Lakes;  the  Ebeme  Mountains,  125 
miles  away  in  the  Maine  wilderness;  (possibly)  Mount  Desert;  Sebago 
Lake,  and  the  shipping  on  the  ocean,  off  Portland;  Mount  Agamenticus, 
down  by  York  Beach;  Lake  Winnipesaukee;  Monadnock  and  the  south- 
ern Kearsarge ;  Greylock  and  the  Iloosac  Range,  down  in  Massachusetts; 
Ascutney,  the  Killington  Teaks,  Mansfield,  and  Jay  Peak,  in  the  Green 
Mountains  of  Vermont;  and  Whiteface  and  other  Adirondack  peaks,  in 
New  York.  The  nearer  valleys  and  familiar  villages  and  neighboring  moun- 
tains arc  seen  as  in  a  bird's-eye  view. 

"  Every  morn  I   lift  my  head, 

Gaze  o'er  New  England  underspread, 
South  from  St.   Lawrence  to  the  Sound, 
Erom  Catskill  east  to  the  sea-bound." 

A  history  of  this  bit  of  Greenland  in  Xew  England  would  be  full  of  deep 
interest  and  fascinating  variety.  We  should  begin  with  the  legendary  era, 
when  it  was  the  Ararat  of  the  Indians,  where  a  blameless  chief  and  his 
squaw  were  saved  from  a  world-encircling  deluge;  and  later,  when  it  became 
their  C'armel,  and  Passaconaway,  the  prophet-chief,  ascended  thence  into 
heaven. 

"  And  once  upon  a  car  of  flaming  fire, 

The  dreadful  Indian   shook  with  fear  to  see 

The  kin;;  of  I'enacook,  his  chief,  his  sire, 

Ride  flaming  up  to  heaven,  than  any  mountain  higher." 

Then  let  us  see,  with  fancy's  eye,  bold  Darby  Field,  the  Portsmouth  Irish- 
man, climbing  up  here  with  his  Indian  guides,  in  164^;  and  Gorges  and 
Vines,  soon  afterward;  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Manasseh  Cutler  and  his  party,  in 
1794,  christening  the  peak  with  a  name  then  (and  always  to  be)  held  in  high- 
csf  reverence  in  America ;  and  the  ('raw  lords  and  Fabyans,  cutting  their 
bridle-paths  up  the  sharp  slopes;  and  Daniel  Webster,  delivering  a  speech 
t<:  the  genius  of  the  mountain;  and  Thoreau,  and  Emerson,  and  Tuckcnnan, 
and  Starr  King,  and  scores  of  other  noble  and  undaunted  guests;  and 
Strickland,  and  (/handler,  and  Lix/ie  Bourne,  and  the  others  \\lio  have  died 

on  these  cold  highlands. 

"Atop 

Of  ol.l  A-iochook  had  seen  the  mount  lins 

Piled  to  the  northward,  shaded  with  wood,  and  thick 

As  meadow  mole-hills,  —  the  far  sea  ,,f  Caso>, 

Kair  lakes,  embosomed  in  the  w >,  .1:1-!  hiil>; 

MooschilWk's  mountain-ran-,:,  and  Kear-ar-e 
Lifting  his  Titan  forehead  to  the  Mm  !  " 


CHAPTER   X. 


BETHLEHEM. 

VIEWS  FROM  BETHLEHEM  STREET. —  THE  TONIC  AIR. —  HAY-P'EVER.— 
MAi'LEwooi). —  STRAWHERRY  HILL. —  MOUNT  AGASSIZ. —  MOUNT 
CLEVELAND. 

"Only  a  little  village  street, 
Lying  along  a  mountain-side." 

THUS  Helen  Hunt  described  Bethlehem;  and  the  simple  picture  is 
accurate  in  its  view  of  the  foremost  of  the  highland  summer-resorts 
of  America. 

When  the  train  reaches  Bethlehem  Junction,  \ve  see  two  narrow- 
gauge  tracks  diverging  therefrom,  one  leading  to  the  Profile  House,  and  the 
other  to  Bethlehem,  three  miles  distant,  and  reached  by  climbing  grades 
which  run  as  high  as  255  feet  to  the  mile. 

There  is  a  tall  ridge  lying  between  the  Ammonoosuc  and  Gale-River 
Valleys,  and  culminating  in  Mount  Agassiz  and  Mount  Cleveland.  Along  a 
terrace-like  plateau  high  up  on  this  ridge,  1,489  feet  above  the  sea,  and  263 
feet  above  the  adjacent  Ammonoosuc,  is  the  famous  village  of  ISethlehem, 
strung  along  a  broad  and  smooth  country-road  for  two  miles,  and  composed 
mainly  of  hotels  and  boarding-houses.  The  off-look  from  this  long-drawn 
Bethlehem  Street  is  to  the  northward,  toward  the  blue  range  of  the  Pilot 
Mountains,  and  the  gray  Percy  Peaks;  and  the  winds  blowing  down  the  long 
valley  from  this  direction  are  cool,  and  full  of  tonic  properties.  There  is 
also  a  long  open  vista  up  the  Ammonoosuc  Yallev  to  the  eastward,  at  whose 
end  stands  the  long  blue  wall  of  the  Presidential  Range,  grandly  outlined 
from  base  to  summit,  and  filling  the  horizon  with  its  majestic  peaks. 

Of  all  the  mountain-resorts  in  Xcw  England,  Bethlehem  is  undoubtedly 
the  chief,  in  the  point  of  popularity,  and  in  the  extent  of  its  accommodations 
for  summer-visitors.  Nearly  ten  thousand  persons  spend  a  week  or  longer 
here  every  season,  and  a  vastly  larger  number  make  sojourns  of  shorter  du- 
ration, on  their  way  through  the  mountains. 

The  Maplewood  at  one  end  of  the  village,  the  Sinclair  near  the  middle, 
the  Strawberry-Hill,  Bellevue,  Mount  Washington,  Turner,  Highland,  Mount- 
Agassi/,  Alpine,  and  others  on  the  pleasant  roads  near  by,  afford  accommo- 
dations of  all  grades  and  at  all  prices,  and  are  always  crowded  during  the 
height  of  the  season.  There  are  also  several  summer-shops,  a  public  library, 
and  three  or  four  (  him  he-.  In  the  environs  a  few  villas  may  be  found, 
owned  and  occupied  by  familie>  from  the  cities,  the  lines!  of  these  being  that 


S7 

of  Mr.  J.  J.  Glessner,  of  Chicago,  out  on  the  Littleton  road.  Another  feature 
of  the  place,  and  one  to  which  it  owes  much  of  its  rapid  advance,  is  "The 
White-Mountain  Echo,"  a  handsome  newspaper  published  every  week  during 
the  season,  and  giving  all  the  news  of  the  highland  resorts  and  their  guests. 

The  great  natural  charm  of  Bethlehem  is  its  cool  and  bracing  air,  with  an 
average  summer-temperature  below  seventy  degrees.  It  is  also  a  singularly 
dry  air,  owing  to  the  treeless  character  of  the  vicinity,  and  the  rapid  drainage 
of  falling  rains  down  the  slopes  into  the  Ammonoosuc,  hidden  in  the  deep 
valley  below.  This  advantage  of  topography  is  availed  of  to  ensure  the  best 
of  sewerage  facilities,  the  well-trapped  pipes  emptying  into  large  cement 
drains,  leading  to  the  river,  and  copiously  flushed  out  by  water  from  the 
great  springs  above  the  village.  The  water-supply  from  these  springs  is 
copious,  pure,  and  cold.  Bethlehem  is  the  best  place  in  New  England  for 
victims  of  hay-fever,  who  find  here  an  excellent  immunity  from  its  trouble- 
some attacks.  And  every  year  the  United-States  I  lay-Fever  Association 
holds  a  convention  on  this  brec/y  plateau,  to  exult  over  its  outwitted  enemy, 
and  to  devise  and  discuss  new  medical  and  climatic  remedies. 

When  the  village  has  received  its  full  quota  of  two  thousand  summer- 
guests,  and  the  long  two-mile  plank-walk,  rising  and  dipping  by  the  roadside, 
becomes  the  favorite  promenade  of  bevies  of  gaily-dressed  city-people,  and 
the  tennis-courts  and  ball-grounds  are  in  full  play,  and  merry  driving-parties 
are  setting  out  for  the  neighboring  rural  roads,  then  Bethlehem  presents  a 
charming  sight,  and  justifies  the  admiration  of  its  many  devotees.  One  of 
the  prominent  features  of  the  place  is  its  joyous  social  life,  the  guests 
giving  themselves  up  to  all  manner  of  merry-making,  from  cribbagc  <)  deux 
to  brilliant  games  of  base-ball,  in  which  the  gentlemen-players  at  the  hotels 
battle  svith  nines  from  other  mountain-resorts.  One  of  the  chief  centres  of 
this  gaiety  is  the  handsome  casino  on  the  Maplewood  estate,  with  card- 
rooms,  reading-rooms,  bowling-alleys,  billiard-rooms,  library,  tennis-courts, 
and  a  hall  tor  dancing  and  concerts. 

The  Maplewood  crowns  the  eastern  and  higher  end  of  the  Bethlehem 
ridge,  half  a  league  trom  the  village  ami  an  equal  distance  trom  Bethlehem 
function,  and  near  its  own  little  station  on  the  narrow-gauge  railroad.  From 
this  coign  oi  vantage  we  look  up  along  the  Ammonoosuc  Valley,  and  sec  at 
its  end,  framed  between  (.'herry  Mountain  on  one  >ide,  and  the  Twin  Moun- 
tains on  the  other,  the  glorious  company  of  the  Presidential  pcak>,  with  the 
sharply  defined  Summit  House,  and  a  curving  line  of  the  mountain-railway. 
P>ending  to  the  right,  the  view  includes  the  nearer  peaks  o|  Franconia,  with 
Lafayette  proudlv  conspicuous  over  them. 

From  the  high  (.rest  of  Strawberry  Hill,  at  the  other  end  of  the  village, 
von  can  >ee  Littleton  and  Whitetield,  and  the  (ireen  Mountain^  of  Vermont, 
the  Percy  Peaks,  the  dark  and  commanding  Francoiiias,  the  main  range  of 
the  White  Mountains,  and  many  another  tamons  crest,  blue  in  the  grave 
tenderness  ,  if  the  di>tance. 

Another  delightful  experience  is  found  in  the  accent  of  MO. nit  Aga»i/. 
the  ancient  Peaked  (pronounced  /'.v/v/./i  Iliil.  and  renamed  in  honor  oi 
Prot.  Agassi/,  who  made  a  valuable  -tudv  o|  the  ''i.iciai  mor.inie>  about 


5S 

Bethlehem,  A  mile  on  the  Franconia  road,  and  somewhat  less  than  a  mile 
across  the  slanting  fields,  leads  to  the  observatory  on  the  summit,  with  its 
wonderful  view  of  the  highlands,  from  Mount  Washington  around  to  the 
Green  Mountains  of  Vermont,  the  tremendous  Franconia  peaks,  and  blue 
Moosilauke,  the  shining  lakes  toward  the  Dalton  Hills,  the  dark  plains  of 
Whitefield,  and  the  dim  ranges  far  away  along  the  Canadian  border.  This 
is  a  beautiful  excursion  for  late  afternoon,  when  the  sun  may  be  seen  setting 
behind  the  Green  Mountains,  and  the  Presidential  Range  is  robed  in  tender 
purples  and  cool  blues. 

Mount  Cleveland  was  in  the  old  times  known  as  Round  Mountain,  and 
now  bears  the  name  of  the  recent  President  of  the  United  States.  The  path 
leaves  the  Mount-Agassiz  road  about  a  mile  from  the  Sinclair  House,  and 
ascends  through  open  pastures  and  heavy  woods  to  the  tall  observatory  on 
the  summit,  whence  we  may  look  out  upon  the  White,  Twin,  Franconia,  and 
Green  Mountains,  and  a  vast  area  of  Northern  New  Hampshire. 

The  famous  Swasey-Farm  Drive  leaves  Main  Street  on  the  right  a  little 
way  beyond  the  Maplewood,  and  runs  around  Mount  Agassiz  to  the  Swasey 
Farm,  two  miles  distant,  with  remarkable  views  of  the  Presidential  and  Fran- 
conia mountains.  Then  the  road  descends  the  Gale-River  glen,  in  deep 
woods,  to  the  deserted  and  ruined  hamlet  of  Gale's  Mills,  and  comes  out  on 
the  Franconia  road,  by  which  we  return  to  Bethlehem. 

Other  pleasant  drives  in  the  vicinity  lead  to  the  famous  view-point  on 
Echo  Farm,  fronting  the  Franconias;  to  Kimball  Hill,  with  its  magnificent 
prospects;  around  the  Heater,  swinging  around  the  dome-like  crest  of  Mount 
Cleveland;  to  the  brisk  and  prosperous  village  of  Littleton,  nestling  along 
the  Ammonoosuc ;  through  the  charming  scenery  of  Cherry  Valley;  or 
across  the  plains  to  the  ruined  hamlet  of  Dalton,  on  the  Connecticut  River. 

Bethlehem  was  first  granted  under  the  name  of  Lloyd  Hills,  in  1774,  and 
its  settlement  began  thirteen  years  later.  The  license  of  the  first  inn,  the 
precursor  of  the  score  of  great  public-houses  now  standing  here,  reads  as 
follows : 

BETHLEHEM,  I>ec.  S,  iSoo. 

Il'/isrcas,  There  being  no  tavern  in  the  said  Town  of  Bethlehem,  and  as  it  is  highly 
necessary  that  there  should  be  one  opened  for  the  accommodation  of  travellers,  therefore 
we,  the  subscribers,  do  approbate  Capt.  F.nt  \Vooilbtiry  and  give  him  full  liberty  and  license 
to  keep  tavern  and  accommodate  travellers  with  liquors  and  other  necessaries,  as  the  law 
directs. 

MOSES  EASTMAN,  /  c  ,     ,  ,-  ,,  ,,  .  , 

AMOS  WHEELER;  )  Selectmen  of  Bethlehem. 

Three  years  later,  Pres.  Dwight  said  of  the  town:  "There  is  nothing  here 
that  merits  notice  except  the  patience,  enterprise,  and  hardihood  of  the 
settlers,  which  have  induced  them  to  stay  upon  so  forbidding  a  spot."  The 

venerable  dominie  would  be  surprised  to  enter  the  village  now,  and  find  that 
its  innate  charms  and  attractions  have  made  it  an  object  of  summer-pilgrim- 
ages for  thousands,  coming  hither  from  great  distances,  and  esteeming  them- 
selves happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  views,  the  air,  and  die  bright  social  life, 
which  abides  here  from  June  until  the  golden  duvs  of  October. 


59 
Up  among  the  log-huts  and  the  stump-covered  clearings  rose 

"  the  post 
On  which  high-hung   the  fading  sign-board  creaks." 

The  old  tavern 

"  Nestled  close  to  earth,  and  seemed  to  brood 
O'er  homely  thoughts  in  a  half-conscious  mood, 
As  by  the  peat  that  rather  fades  than  burns,    " 
The  ancient  grandame  nods  and   knits  by  turns." 

This  famous  building  was  burned  in  1856;  and  the  1'hincas-Allen  farm- 
house sufficed  for  the  accommodation  of  all  transient  comers  for  nearly  ten 
years.  Thus,  in  1865,  the  Sinclair  House  came  into  existence. 

Half  a  century  ago  this  region  was  the  home  of  myriads  of  wild  creatures, 
and  old  Allen  Thompson,  the  prince  of  the  local  hunters,  in  a  single  year 
killed  114  foxes,  SS  deer,  66  sable,  and  7  bears.  Hut  the  Appalachians  and 
the  society-girls  ami  the  duties  have  apparently  frightened  away  most  of 
these  forest-denizens,  and  it  is  only  very  rarely  that  they  intrude  near  the 
well-kept  roads  and  woodland  paths  of  IJethlehem. 

Helen  Hunt  was  for  many  years  an  hiibitut  of  Bethlehem,  where  she 
wrote  "  Hits  of  Talk,"  and  "  The  Village  Lights."  Kli/abeth  Stuart  Phelps 
wrote  "  The  dates  \Yide  Open"  at  the  Howard  House.  Xora  Perry,  Susan 
Coolidge,  and  other  well-known  authors  have  found  it  pleasant  to  dwell  in 
this  pure  dry  air. 

The  modernness  of  the  village  is  attended  with  a  commendable  bright- 
ness and  cleanness  in  the  buildings  anil  their  surroundings,  and  a  marked 
difference  to  the  tastes  of  these  later  days.  The  magnificent  prospects  to 
far  northern  and  eastern  horizons  are  not  disfigured  by  unseemly  tore- 
grounds,  and  the  salubrious  air,  almost  as  exhilarating  as  champagne,  is  free 
trom  antique  flavors.  It  is  a  joyous  and  pleasant  land,  and  its  guests  pass 
their  time  largely  out  of  doors,  in  the  full  appreciation  of  its  atmospheric 
elixir.  And  so  the  summer  drifts  awav,  and  the  malarias  and  exhaustions  of 
the  lowlands  and  the  crowded  cities  are  exhaled,  and  the  vigorous  new  life 
of  the  hills  take>  their  place. 


6o 


CHAPTER   XI. 


FRANCONIA. 

THE  FRANCONIA  STORIES. — THE  ANCIENT  IRON-WORKS. — THE  VILLAGE. 

—  PINE  HILL. —  SUGAR  HILL. — A  MOUNTAIN  PANORAMA. —  KASTON. 

—  MOUNT  KINSMAN. —  THE  BRIDAL-VEIL  FALLS. 

IN  the  old  days,  Franconia  was  a  region  of  enchantment  in  the  minds  of 
thousands  of  American  children,  for  here  occurred  the  events  of  Jacob 
Abbott's  famous  "  Franconia  Stories,"  and  the  deeds  of  the  wonderful 
"  Beechnut."  And  now  the  quondam  readers  of  these  marvellous  tales, 
grown  gray-headed  during  the  flight  of  years,  come  up  hither  in  the  long 
summer  solstice,  and  find  a  bright  little  mountain-hamlet,  with  its  white 
farm-houses  strung  along  the  rushing  brook  called  Gale  River,  and  wide 
sweeps  of  forest  bearing  down  on  either  side,  and  high  over  the  sheltered 
vale  the  craggy  Franconia  peaks,  towering  into  the  clear  blue  sky.  At  one 
end  of  the  long  street  stands  the  round  stone  tower  of  the  old  Franconia 
Iron-Works,  whose  furnaces  went  into  operation  away  back  of  the  War  of 
1812,  and  grew  cold  again  before  the  great  Civil  War.  Across  the  stream 
rises  the  handsome  and  prosperous  Dow  Academy,  built  and  richly  endowed 
within  a  few  years  by  the  bounty  of  the  proprietor  of  the  "Waverlcy  Maga- 
zine," Moses  A.  Dow,  who  had  passed  the  years  of  his  boyhood  in  this 
happy  valley.  The  Congregational  Church  is  also  a  recent  erection,  largely 
due  to  the  generosity  of  outside  friends,  and  holding  high  the  standards  of 
religion  and  cultivation  in  this  tranquil  community.  Along  the  embowered 
road  that  follows  the  river  are  several  comfortable  and  inexpensive  board- 
ing-houses,—  the  Franconia,  Scven-C.ables,  Fhmvood,  Mount-Lafayette,  and 
others, —  frequented  in  summer  by  joyous  parties  of  guests  from  the  cities. 
There  is  something  in  the  situation  of  the  village  which  has  made  it  famous 
for  long  and  amazingly  cold  winters,  and  this  trait,  borne  over  into  August, 
has  great  attractions  for  the  sun-scorched  denizens  of  the  lowlands.  The 
wonderful  verdure  and  unbroken  peace  of  the  glen  are  full  of  restful  influ- 
ences, whether  one  rides  along  the  valley-roads,  or  pursues  the  elusive  trout 
in  the  murmuring  brooks,  or  simply  "loafs  and  invites  his  soul''  on  the 
verandas  of  the  little  pensions.  There  is  some  talk  of  a  Littleton  and  Fran- 
conia narrow-gauge  railroad,  but  it  never  grows  alarmingly  definite;  and  the 
rumbling  old  mail-stage  from  Littleton,  six  miles  away,  will  doubtless  serve 
the  locality  adequately  enough  for  years  to  come.  And  it  is  only  four  miles 
from  Bethlehem,  that  city  of  hotels,  over  a  mountain-climbing  road  that 
gives  a  succession  of  glorious  views  ol  the  Franconia  peaks.  And  an  equal 
distance  away,  high  over  the  glen,  the  southward  road  enters  the  famous 
Franconia  Notch,  hard  bv  the  Profile  House. 


6i 

On  one  side  of  Franconi;i  Iron-Works  the  long  plateau  of  Pine  Hill  is 
nobly  lifted  up,  and  among  its  outspread  lawns  and  ancient  groves  of  ever- 
greens stands  the  Forest-Hills  House,  with  its  noteworthy  views  of  the 
Fraueonia  valley  and  its  dominating  mountains,  and  a  far-away  prospect  of 
the  Presidential  Range. 

On  the  west  of  the  lovely  Franconia  valley  rises  the  long  ridge  of  Sugar 
Hill,  a  fertile  and  sightly  upheaval  of  the  land,  adorned  with  the  mosaic  of 
farm-lands  and  pastures,  and  crowned  with  groves  of  sugar-maples.  Here 
and  there,  on  the  best  strategic  points,  nearly  two  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea,  are  several  large  summer-hotels,  frequented  during  the  season  by  hun- 
dreds of  happy  guests,  and  abounding  in  those  resources  of  ball-grounds, 
tennis-courts,  broad  piazzas,  and  dance-halls  by  which  flying  Time  is  be- 
guiled of  his  weariness.  IJut  the  paramount  charm  of  Sugar  Hill  is  its 
majestic  and  unparalleled  prospect  of  the  greatest  of  the  New-Hampshire 
mountains,  —  the  huge  Franconias  grouped  across  the  deep  valley,  the  dark 
Twins,  and  the  far-away  Presidentials,  the  Adams  and  Jefferson  spires,  and 
the  railway  trains  crawling  up  the  long  shoulders  of  Washington.  The  left 
of  the  line  is  tilled  with  the  tumultuous  blue  mounds  of  the  Pilot  range;  and 
away  off  in  the  south  rises  Moosilauke,  the  monarch  of  the  south-western 
valleys.  And  from  the  crest  of  the  hill  the  entire  western  hori/on  is  un- 
folded, saw-edged  by  the  Green  Mountains  of  Vermont,  and  extending  for  a 
score  of  leagues.  It  is  an  all-around  panorama  of  almost  matchless  beauty, 
and  the  daily  processions  of  morning  light  and  sunset,  clouds  and  storms, 
and  even  the  splendors  of  clear  evenings,  make  countless  varying  effects  of 
great  beauty  and  fascination.  The  long  valleys  stretch  away  on  either  side, 
dee))  and  still  under  their  Titanic  walls,  and  cheered  here  and  there  by  white 
farm-houses  and  the  pale  green  of  clearings,  relieved  against  the  more 
sombre  tints  of  the  ancient  forests.  On  this  high  terrace,  the  air  is  cooler 
and  more  invigorating  than  in  the  neighboring  glens,  and  the  nights  are  full 
of  resttulness  and  noble  peace. 

People  who  are  bound  for  the  C.oodnow  House  take  stage  from  Littleton, 
on  the  Franconia  road;  and  those  en  I'siite  tor  the  Sunset-Hill  House  leave 
the  railroad  at  Lisbon,  and  ride  for  seven  miles  up  the  long  valleys  of  the 
westward-flowing  brooks. 

Down  to  the  southward  open  the  lonely  glens  of  F.aston,  with  their  scat- 
tered farms  and  rural  boarding-houses,  flanked  by  the  gigantic  ridge  of 
Mount  Kinsman,  one  of  the  most  formidable  of  the  western  Franconias. 
High  up  on  this  rugged  height,  the  Copper-Mine  P>rook  leaps  gallantly 
over  a  cliff  nearly  eightv  feet  high,  in  such  a  bright  and  translucent  sheet 
that  its  discoverers  named  it  the  Bridal- Veil  Falls. 


62 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  FRANCONIA  NOTCH. 

THE   PROFILE  HOUSE. —  THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS. —  PROFILE 
LAKE. — ECHO  LAKE. — MOUNT  LAFAYETTE. — THE  FLUME. — THE  POOL. 

THE  Franconia  Notch,  high  amid  the  mountains,  enwrapped  in  rich 
foliage,  bright  with  many  waters,  and  abounding  in  singular  rock- 
sculptures,  possesses  many  points  of  attraction  unequalled  elsewhere 
in  New  England,  and  thousands  of  travellers  visit  this  cool  recess  with 
every  returning  season.  The  scenery  is  at  once  fantastic  and  peaceful,  and 
its  grandeur  is  tempered  with  a  grace  and  an  arboreal  richness  rarely  encoun- 
tered in  the  immediate  presence  of  the  great  and  sombre  mountains.  There 
is  also  a  pleasing  aspect  of  finish  and  cultivation  among  the  artificial 
adjuncts  of  the  place,  not  often  encountered  in  our  American  summer- 
resorts.  Even  the  little  narrow-gauge  railway  on  which  we  have  ascended 
from  Bethlehem  Junction,  ten  miles  away  through  the  wilderness,  decorously 
hides  its  terminus  in  the  woods,  and  avoids  intrusion  on  the  trim  lawns  of 
the  Profile  House  and  its  cottages.  The  great  hotel  is  almost  a  village  in 
itself,  with  its  shop  and  offices,  billiard-hall  and  bowling-alleys,  livery-stable, 
tennis-courts,  and  other  departments,  and  its  great  pillared  walls  rising  like 
some  old  castle  of  Camelot.  Higher  above  the  sea  is  this  eyrie  than  the 
bare  crest  of  Sugar  Hill,  or  the  breezy  street  of  Bethlehem,  or  the  famous 
hamlet  of  Jefferson;  and  yet  above  it  still  greater  cliffs  rise  into  the  lumi- 
nous blue  sky,  or  tangle  on  their  shaggy  sides  vast  skeins  and  networks  of 
mists  and  clouds. 

The  supreme  jewel  of  this  treasury  of  Nature  is  the  great  stone  face, 
the  world-renowned  Profile,  starting  out  from  the  ledgy  crest  of  the  moun- 
tain, a  patient  and  melancholy  visage,  noble  and  strong  and  benignant,  gazing 
toward  the  distant  south-east,  haggard  in  the  clear  light  of  morning,  and  full 
of  majestic  expression  when  outlined  against  the  reddening  sky  of  late  after- 
noon. The  geologists  tell  us  that  this  weird  simulacrum  is  produced  by  three 
disconnected  ledges  of  granite,  nearly  forty  feet  in  height,  and  twelve  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  lake  beneath  it;  and  they  warn  us  that  the  ledges  are 
fast  crumbling  away,  and  that  before  many  years  the  Profile  will  have  van- 
ished. According  to  old  traditions,  the  lonely  stone  face  received  the  adora- 
tion of  the  Indians  of  the  surrounding  valleys,  as  a  visible  manifestation  of 
their  Great  Spirit.  It  is  now  more  than  eighty  years  since  two  wandering 
mountaineers  of  our  race  discovered  it,  and  with  high  political  loyalty  cried 
out,  "That  is  Jefferson."  ('an  their  descendants  liken  it  to  Cleveland  or 
Harrison?  Or  will  it  fade  away  into  a  Meg  Merrilies,  and  so  pass,  and  be 


"  OLD    MAN    OK   THH    MI 


64 

seen  no  more?  A  few  rods  down  the  road  from  the  Profile  House  you 
come  to  a  guide-board,  and,  looking  upward,  the  strange  vision  is  apparent ; 
and,  passing  either  way  thence,  it  changes  its  expression,  and  becomes  femi- 


nine ;  and  soon  fades  into  s^aH^L- 
vacuity  and  formlessness. 
"  It  seemed  as  if  an  enor- 
mous giant,  or  Titan,  had 
sculptured  his  own  likeness 
the  precipice.  There  was  the 
broad  arch  of  the  forehead;  the 
nose  with  its  long  bridge:  and 
the  vast  lips,  which,  if  they  could  have  spoken,  would  have  rolled  their 
thunder  accents  from  one  end  of  the  valley  to  the  other."  In  such  words 
Hawthorne  describes  the  scene,  in  his  story  of  "  The  Great  Stone  Face;" 
and  \Yhittier  says  : 


65 

"  Beyond  them,  like  a  sun-rimmed  cloud, 

The  great  Notch  Mountain  shone, 
Watched  over  by  the  solemn-browed 
And  awful  face  of  stone." 

At  the  foot  of  the  mountain-pedestal  which  upholds  this  venerated  sculp- 
ture glimmers  the  bright  Profile  Lake,  which  an  older  and  more  prosaic 
generation  called  "The  Old  Man's  Wash-bowl."  Here  numerous  boats  float 
across  the  limpid  tarn,  and  in  the  shadows  of  the  overarching  trees  young 
people  seek  their  charmed  solitude  a  deux.  And  the  waters  flow  out  from 
the  lake  to  form  the  bright  Pemigewasset,  and  through  the  broadening  Mer- 
rimac  to  find  the  sea  at  Newburyport. 

It  is  but  little  more  than  a  mile  to  Echo  Lake,  whose  outflow  seeks  the 
Ammonoosuc  and  the  Connecticut,  and  makes  the  long  journey  to  Long- 
Island  Sound.  This  is  even  more  beautiful  than  Profile  Lake;  and  the 
tremendous  crags  of  Mount  Lafayette  overhang  its  crystal  depths  with  noble 
effect.  There  arc  boats  here,  too,  and  merry-making  oarsmen  evoke  from 
the  grim  walls  of  Kagle  Cliff  many  an  elrland  echo. 

"  Eye  of  the  wilderness, 

Lonely  and  loverless, 
Ages  and  ages  since  nature  began; 

Sending  toward  heaven 

The  blue  it  had  given. 
Fringed  with  the  forest  untrodden  by  man." 

One  more  bright  mountain-tarn  gems  these  solitudes,  a  thousand  feet 
above  the  pass,  on  the  rocky  shoulder  of  Mount  Cannon,  and  reached  by  a 
steep  and  wearily  long  bridle-path.  This  is  well-named  Lonesome  Lake; 
and  in  his  picturesque  lodge  on  its  shore,  Mr.  William  C.  Prime,  the  scholar 
and  art-lover,  forgets  for  a  few  weeks  of  each  year  the  roar  of  great  New 
York. 

In  a  few  minutes,  from  the  bright  Belgravia  of  the  hotel,  we  may  pass 
out  of  sight  and  sound  of  humanity  on  the  bridle-path  up  Lafayette,  and  so 
mount  upward  around  Kagle  Cliff,  a  long  mile  to  the  notch  between  the  cliff 
and  the  mountain,  another  ten  furlongs  to  the  Kagle  Lakes,  high  up  on  the 
plateau,  and  a  mile  and  a  half  farther,  steep  up  the  main  peak,  above  the 
line  of  foliage,  and  over  the  bare  and  storm-worn  ledges.  Krom  the  lonely 
apex  of  the  mountain,  you  look  down  into  the  vast  and  untrodden  ravines 
below,  and  along  the  narrow  crest-lines  reaching  away  on  either  side,  and 
over  the  bright  mosaics  of  the  Connecticut  and  Merrimac  Valleys,  and  out  to 
the  Presidential  brotherhood,  the  Twins,  Kiarsarge  at  Xorth  Conway.  Mount 
Pleasant  by  Sebago  Lake,  Carrigain  and  Chocorua,  the  blue  mountain-walls 
ot  the  Lake  Country,  the  Merrimac  Kearsarge,  tar-away  Monadnock,  white- 
peaked  Cardigan,  the  hotel  on  Moosilauke,  a  hundred  miles  of  the  (Ireen 
Mountains,  and  the  Canadian  peaks  around  Lake  Mcinphrennigou.  ISetween 
these  conspicuous  [joints,  hundreds  of  well-known  heights  start  into  view 
with  white  villages,  shining  lakes,  and  the  silvery  curves  of  far  winding  rivers. 

The  guide-books  will  tell  of  many  another  gallant  excursion:  of  little 
Bald  Mountain,  with  its  lovelv  views;  of  the  -tone  cannon  seen  from  near 


66 


THE    FLUME. 


the  hotel,  up  towards  the  crest  of  Cannon  Mountain;  of  Walker's  Falls,  and 
Kagle  Cliff,  and  Boyce  Rock,  and  other  points  of  resort  in  and  about  this 
marvellous  glen.  And  the  college-students  who  serve  as  table-waiters  in  the 
dining-room  are  competent  to  correct  a  false  quantity  in  your  quotations 
from  Horace  or  Homer,  or  discuss  recent  phases  of  esoteric  Buddhism,  or 
review  the  influence  of  Oxford  on  modern  Anglican  thought. 

The  Profile  House  stands  near  the  northern  end  of  the  Franconia  Notch, 
which  stretches  away  for  five  or  six  miles  southward,  with  impressive  moun- 
tain-ranges on  either  side,  clipping  down  to  the  road  in  oiu-t?^-?  •-*  v  ••  ll:™' 
forest.  Two-thirds  of  the  way  down.  tV-  ••*•  .b  merrily  away  toward 

the  terminus  of  the  Pe»~ 
igewasset  Railway  at 
North  Woodstock, 
passes  the  great  granite 
bowl  of  the  Basin, 
through  which  the  pel- 
lucid waters  of  the 
Pemigewasset  swirl  and 
rush,  cold,  clear,  and 
refreshing.  Here  the 
Cascade  Brook  flows 
down  from  the  high 
hills,  over  a  succession 
of  falls,  —  the  Tunnel 
Falls,  Island  Falls,  and 
others,  —  rarely  visited, 
though  within  less  than 
a  mile  of  the  road,  because  a 
good  path  is  lacking. 

About   five    miles   from  the 
Profile    House,    the    Flume    House 
stands   in   the   southern   opening  of  '' ?rv-r>^?i^>'';' :-0 *• 

the    Franconia    Notch,  with    a    beautiful  7;"^  >>*••" u"  ^  -  _ -. 

view  over  the  open   country  beyond,  and 
the  cultivated  plains  of  the  Pemigewasset,  full  of 
soft  and  delicate  tenderness   of  forms  and   tints. 
<  >n  the  other  side,  the  great  forest-clad  peaks  of    the 

Franconias  —  the  ''Haystacks''  of  the  old-time  fanners  —  rise  clear  in  the 
field  of  vision,  near  at  hand,  and  very  nobly  outlined.  Something  more  than 
half  a  mile  from  the  hotel,  on  a  side-road  traversed  daily  by  many  well-filled 
stages  and  mountain-wagons,  is  the  great  natural  curiosity  known  as  the 
Flume,  a  fissure  seven  hundred  feet  long  and  sixty  feet  deep,  between  fern- 
draped  granite  walls  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  apart.  A  merrv  little  brook 
flashes  and  rushes  along  its  bottom,  with  several  bright  cascades,  and  wide 
bands  of  colorless  crystal  over  the  clean  granite  ledges  sloping  outside.  In 
former  times,  a  ponderous  bowlder  hung  suspended  between  the  walls  of 
this  strange  chasm,  but  an  avalanche  tore  through  the  Flume  in  1885,  ;iiul 


68 

swept  it  away.  In  the  dark  forest  to  the  northward  is  the  Pool,  reached  by 
a  half-mile  path  from  the  Flume  House.  Here  the  Pemigewasset  falls  with 
a  dull  roar  into  a  profoundly  deep  basin  amid  the  rocks,  glowering  blackly 
under  the  shadows  of  tall  cliffs.  Not  far  away,  a  path  leads  up  to  Liberty 
Cascade. 

Sojourners  at  the  Flume  House  need  not  lack  for  venturesome  excur- 
sions. The  bridle-path  up  Mount  Pemigewasset  leads  to  a  noble  point  of 
view  for  the  Franconia  Range  and  the  great  valley  to  the  southward.  Bold 
ciJniuv^  v  ~'7°  "Bended  Mount  Flume  and  Mount  Liberty,  through  path- 
less and  difficult  foresii.  ••'  ''  °  lowland  road  is  the  beginning  of  the 
long  path  to  the  Georgianna  Falls,  far  seciuv...^  ..  ^»..ryard  Brook. 

Observation-wagons  run  twice  daily  through  the  Notch,  from  the  Profile 
House  to  the  Flume. 

Besides  the  route  to  the  Profile  House  by  the  railway  from  Bethlehem 
Junction,  there  is  another  route  from  the  lowlands,  following  the  Pemige- 
wasset Railroad  (which  leaves  the  White-Mountains  Division  of  the  Boston 
&  Lowell  Railroad  at  Plymouth)  to  its  terminus  at  North  Woodstock,  and 
riding  thence  by  stage,  a  distance  of  about  eight  miles. 

"  We  had  looked  upward  where  the  summer  sky, 
Tasselled  with  clouds  light-woven  by  the  sun, 
Sprung  its  blue  arch  above  the  abutting  crags 
O'er-roofing  the  vast  portal  of  the  land 
Beyond  the  wall  of  mountains.     We  had  passed 
The  winding  Pemigewasset,  overhung 
By  beechen  shadows,  whitening  down  its  rocks, 
Or  lazily  gliding  through  its  intervals, 
From  waving  rye-fields  sending  up  the  gleam 
Of  sunlit  waters." 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


JEFFERSON. 

THE  GRANDEST  VIEW  OF  THE  WHITE  MOUNTAINS.  —  ISRAEL'S  RIVER. — 
MOUNT  STARR  KING.  —  CHERRY  MOUNTAIN.  —  A  FEUDAL  LORD. — 
JEFFERSON  HIGHLANDS.  —  THE  PATH  TO  THE  NORTHERN  PEAKS. 

A  CLUSTER  of  hotels  and  summer  boarding-houses,  known  as  Jefferson 
Hill,  stands  high  up  on  the  shoulder  of  Mount  Starr  King,  and  from 
that  noble  vantage-ground  commands  the  best  possible  view  of  the 
great  Presidential  Range, —  Madison,  Adams,  Jefferson,  Washington, 
Monroe, —  and  other  majestic  peaks.  This  unrivalled  panorama  rises  over 
the  long  valley  of  Israel's  River,  with  the  breadth  and  sweep  of  an  ocean 
scene,  and  continually  varied  by  the  magical  tints  and  shades  that  play  over 
the  scarred  mountains,  with  their  grim  castellated  ridges  and  deep,  dark 
ravines.  The  foreground  is  a  sea  of  dark  fir  forests,  sloping  down  to  the 
edges  of  the  meadows,  where  the  silvery  gleam  of  Israel's  River  here  and 
there  lightens  up  the  vast  and  amazing  picture.  The  sunsets  along  this 
range  are  of  singular  beauty  and  richness,  when  the  chaotic  crests  crowning 
the  south-eastern  horizon  take  on  marvellous  shades  of  lilac  and  purple, 
crimson  and  olive,  and  finally  sink  into  the  solemn  blackness  of  evening. 
The  hemmed-in  aspect  of  some  of  the  mountain-resorts  gives  place  here  to 
broader  perspectives  and  admirable  landscape  distances;  and  the  multiform 
changes  of  sun  and  sky,  of  morning  and  evening,  of  cloud  and  storm,  may  be 
studied  thence  with  unusual  enjoyment.  And  when  the  eye  wearies  of  the 
great  range,  it  may  dwell  upon  the  nearer  peak  of  Cherry  Mountain,  and  the 
dark  pyramids  of  Franconia.  and  the  dim  blue  crest  of  Moosilauke.  The 
pure  dry  air,  delicious  spring-water,  complete  natural  drainage,  and  pleasant 
environs  have  united  in  the  endowment  of  Jefferson  as  one  of  the  foremost 
of  the  mountain-resorts.  There  lias  been  much  contention  between  this 
village  and  1'iethlchem  as  to  which  of  the  two  is  the  higher  above  the  sea; 
but  the  difference  is  at  any  rate  very  slight,  and  either  of  them  stands  well 
above  the  hay-fever  line. 

Israel's  River,  the  pleasant  stream  which  nourishes  and  brightens  this 
valley,  rises  in  the  profound  gorges  of  Mount  Adams,  and  llows  for  a  brief 
fifteen  miles  around  the  hills,  until  it  enters  the  Connecticut  River.  It  bears 
the  name  of  Israel  dimes,  a  famous  beaver-trapper  of  a  hundred  vcars  ago; 
but  among  the  Indians  it  was  known  as  Si>i^ra~Vit< '/;-,"  The  White  Rock's 
Foaming  Stream."  And  of  this  beautiful  ulen  Sir  Charles  I  >ilke  said:  "The 
world  can  show  few  scenes  more  tail."  The  road  irom  [ettei>on  to  (iurham 


70 

the  high  northern  wall  of  the  valley,  with  incomparable  views  of 
the  coio.  '  peaks  which  form  the  opposite  side. 

The  public  ho-oco  a.1  Jefferson  Hill  can  accommodate  fully  eight  hundred 
guests.  Chief  among  them  is  the  Waumbek,  followed  by  the  Starr-King, 
Jefferson-Hill,  Plaisted,  Maple,  and  a  number  of  others.  The  south  wing  of 
the  Waumbek  House  dates  from  1861,  when  travel  first  began  to  drift  in 
this  direction  in  too  large  a  volume  for  the  old  red  tavern  on  the  Mills  road 
to  accommodate.  For  many  years,  the  visitors  to  this  locality  came  by  stage 
from  Gorham,  and  afterwards  successively  from  Littleton  and  Lancaster. 
The  journey  is  made  more  easily  now  by  the  railroad  from  Whitefield,  which 
comes  within  less  than  three  miles  of  the  hotels,  and  is  met  by  a  well- 
equipped  stage-route.  Jefferson  Hill  is  eight  hours  from  Boston. 

You  may  drive  out  to  Blair's  Mills,  in  Randolph,  and  back  on  the  Valley 
Road,  along  Israel's  River,  to  the  meadow;  or  out  to  Stag  Hollow,  and  down 
the  Potato  Road  and  Valley  Road;  or  along  the  North  Road  to  Lancaster, 
and  around  by  the  Gore  Road ;  or  around  Mount  Prospect ;  or  across  the 
Cherry-Mountain  Road  to  the  Fabyan  House;  or  to  Jefferson  Mills,  Lan- 
caster, Gorham,  Whitefield,  or  Bethlehem.  The  roads  in  all  this  region  are 
very  interesting,  and  give  a  succession  of  impressive  views. 

On  a  fair  and  sunny  afternoon,  you  may  ascend  Mount  Starr  King,  by  a 
path  two  and  a  half  miles  long,  beginning  near  the  Waumbek  House,  and 
ending  at  the  bare  rocks  of  the  summit,  whence  you  can  overlook  the  Pilot 
and  Pliny  ranges,  the  peaks  from  Madison  to  Jackson,  Carrigain,  Osceola, 
Lafayette,  and  the  long  line  of  the  Green  Mountains. 

Cherry  Mountain,  famous  for  its  destructive  slide  a  few  years  ago,  lies 
bold  across  the  valley  from  Jefferson,  and  a  steep  path  climbs  up  its  Owl's- 
Head  peak  in  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  King  farm. 

This  wild  region  in  the  remote  Provincial  days  bore  the  name  of  Dart- 
mouth, but  when  it  passed  into  the  possession  of  Col.  Joseph  Whipple,  a 
friend  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  the  name  was  changed  to  that  of  the  great  Vir- 
ginian. Whipple  lived  here  in  almost  baronial  power,  and  when  a  British 
and  Indian  war-party  raided  the  valley,  during  the  Revolution,  he  rallied  his 
retainers,  and  drove  the  invaders  away  pell-mell. 

Five  miles  east  of  Jefferson  Hill  is  Jefferson  Highlands,  with  the  Pliny- 
Range,  Highland,  Crawford,  and  Mount-Adams  Houses,  large  and  low-priced 
rural  boarding-houses.  Here,  also,  on  the  side  of  Boy  Mountain,  is  the  public 
house  kept  by  Ethan  A.  Crawford,  the  son  of  the  celebrated  guide  and 
hunter,  Fthan  Allen  Crawford.  In  a  few  minutes,  you  may  reach  the  top  of 
the  oddly  named  hill,  and  gain  a  new  and  fully  repaying  view  of  the  vast 
wall  of  mountains.  All  these  houses  are  on  sites  more  than  sixteen  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea.  in  a  region  where  the  summer  days  are  full  of  inspiration, 
and  the  nights  are  rich  in  beauty  and  restfulness.  And  from  no  other  point 
is  there  such  a  variety  of  exciting  and  profitable  excursions,  through  the  tre- 
mendous ravines  and  along  the  rocky  ridges  of  the  northern  peaks.  King's 
Ravine  and  the  Ravine  of  the  Castles  may  be  explored  thence,  with  great 
physical  weariness,  but  impressing  indelible  pictures  on  the  memory.  And 
here  begins  the  great  Appalachian-Club  path  to  the  northern  peaks,  which 


runs  in  from  the  house  of  Charles  E.  Lowe  (the  best  of  the  mountain- 
guides),  three  and  a  half  miles  east  of  the  Mount-Adams  House,  traversing 
two  and  a  half  miles  of  forest  and  one  and  a  half  miles  of  bare  ridges.  Once 
above  the  tree-line,  and  the  grand  peaks  of  Madison,  Adams,  Jefferson,  and 
Washington  may  be  explored  at  leisure,  and  their  profound  ravines  may  be 
peered  into.  The  Appalachian  Club  has  had  a  stone  cabin  built  on  the 
upper  part  of  the  path,  and  many  a  sturdy  climber  has  passed  a  summer 
night  in  its  shelter.  It  is  one  and  a  half  miles  from  the  peak  of  Madison  to 
that  of  Adams;  two  and  a  half  miles  thence  to  the  top  of  Jefferson;  and 
nearly  three  miles  thence  to  the  top  of  Mount  Washington.  It  is  tolerably 
safe  to  allow  an  hour  for  each  mile  of  travelling  over  these  rugged  sierras, 
for  the  tired  body  abets  the  exhilarated  mind  in  calling  frequent  halts,  to 
rest,  while  the  eye  enjoys  the  illimitable  views  outspread  on  every  side,  from 
the  beetling  gray  cliffs  close  at  hand,  to  the  dim  blue  rounding  of  the  earth 
in  Maine  and  Vermont  and  Canada. 

Still  farther  toward  the  east,  on  this  road,  over  the  Moose-River  Valley, 
is  Randolph  Hill,  with  its  wonderful  views  of  the  main  range.  Here  stand 
the  Ravine  and  Mount-Crescent  Houses,  in  a  land  of  waterfalls  and  hills 
and  forests,  and  with  paths  to  the  Pond  of  Safety,  Salmacis  Falls,  and  the 
top  of  Mount  Madison.  This  delightful  side-nook,  off  the  routes  of  general 
travel,  is  a  favorite  resort  of  the  Appalachian-Club  people.  It  is  reached 
from  Gorham,  about  five  miles  distant  on  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway. 

Whitefield  is  a  busy  and  prosperous  modern  village,  whose  reason  for 
being  is  its  immense  lumber-mills,  along  John's  River.  The  lumber  com- 
pany has  built  a  railway  nearly  twenty  miles  long,  through  the  deep  woods 
that  extend  nearly  to  the  base  of  Mount  Washington,  and  in  rude  forest- 
camps  on  either  side  of  the  line  hundreds  of  stalwart  woodsmen  pass  their 
winters,  cutting  the  huge  logs  that  are  laden  upon  the  platform-cars  and 
carried  down  to  the  mill-pond  at  Whitefield. 

The  Kimball-IIill  House  is  an  inexpensive  pension  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  sea,  with  a  large  farm  ;  and  close  by  it,  the  I  lowland  Observatory 
peers  above  the  tree-tops,  overlooking  scores  of  leagues  of  mountains  and 
glens. 

In  the  other  direction,  two  and  one-half  miles  from  Whitefield,  the  Moun- 
tain-View House  stands  on  a  long  plateau  sloping  downward  towards  the 
mountains,  and  commanding  an  especially  fine  view  of  the  Franconia  Range. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

LANCASTER. 

THE  UPPER  Coos.  — THE   PILOT  RANGE.— FAIR  INTERVALES.  — LUNEN- 
BURG  HEIGHTS.  —  MOUNT  PROSPECT.  —  KILKENNY. 

LANCASTER  is  the  charming  little  capital  of  Northern  New  Hamp- 
shire, that  great  COGS  country  which  within  the  present  century 
swarmed  with  moose  and  deer,  wolves  and  bears,  and  every  variety 
of  game  known  to  our  northern  forests.  When  the  first  settlers  came 
in,  from  Lancaster,  Mass.,  they  named  their  log-built  hamlet  on  the  Upper 
Coos  in  memory  of  their  former  home.  It  is  now  a  bright  and  well-to-do 
modern  shire-town,  with  banks,  newspapers,  public  library,  half  a  do/en 
churches,  and  a  number  of  prosperous  manufactories,  and  a  refined  and 
cultivated  society,  of  the  professional  classes.  The  Lancaster  House  is  a 
comfortable  modern  hotel,  in  the  environs,  with  a  good  view  of  the  White 
Mountains,  up  Israel's  River,  and  of  many  other  distinguished  peaks,  far 
and  near.  The  village  also  contains  several  other  summer  boarding-houses. 

The  climate  of  this  lovely  plain,  sheltered  from  the  sea-winds  by  the  lofty 
wall  of  the  White  Mountains,  is  bland  and  delightful ;  and  the  sweet  pastoral 
scenery  of  the  environs  makes  most  interesting  contrasts  with  the  rugged 
wiklness  of  the  overhanging  mountains.  The  most  impressive  features  of  the 
scene  are  the  great  Pilot  Mountains,  covering  more  than  a  hundred  square 
miles,  and  towering  over  three  thousand  feet  into  the  sky.  This  noble  range 
was  named  in  honor  of  a  sagacious  dog,  Pilot,  who  led  back  from  these  dark 
defiles  his  master,  half-dead  from  a  hunger  of  many  days.  Round  about  the 
village  sweep  miles  of  fair  intervales,  rich  in  waving  grain,  fringed  by  the 
bright  blue  of  the  Connecticut,  and  overlooked  by  the  high  Vermont  hills 
and  the  magnificent  axure  wall  of  the  Pilot  Mountains. 

Just  across  the  Connecticut  (note  the  exquisite  views  from  the  bridge), 
the  Vermont  shore  rises  into  the  famous  Lunenburg  Heights,  overlooking  a 
panoramic  line  of  mountains  a  hundred  miles  long,  from  Moosilauke  to  the 
upper  Monadnock,  and  giving  a  bird's-eye  view  over  the  beautiful  meadows. 
On  these  favored  hills  there  arc  several  summer  boarding-houses. 

Three  miles  from  Lancaster,  and  accessible  by  a  carriage-road,  the  Hotel 
Prospect  crowns  the  apex  of  Mount  Prospect,  commanding  a  view  which 
extends  over  a  circuit  of  seven  hundred  miles,  including  Canada,  Vermont, 
the  blue  Pilots,  the  silvery  windings  of  the  Connecticut,  the  white  villages  of 
Lancaster  and  Bethlehem,  and  the  great  Presidential  Range. 

The  Kilkenny  Railway  runs  ten  miles  casterlv  from  Lancaster,  through 
the  hamlet  of  Lost  Nation,  and  into  the  "Dark  Fore-Ms"  of  Kilkenny. 


73 


CHAPTER    XV. 

DIXVILLE    NOTCH. 

GROVETON  AND   TIIK    PERCY    PEAKS.  —  THE   UITER-COOS   RAILROAD. — 
COI.EUROOK.  —  DIXVILLK  NOTCH.  —  KRROL  DAM. 

A  DOZEN  miles  farther  up  the  valley,  beyond  Lancaster,  the  railway 
intersects  the  Grand  Trunk  line  at  Groveton  Junction,  a  straggling 
little  village  with  two  inns,  in  the  broad  town  of  Northumberland, 
famous  for  its  maple-sugar.  The  one  experience  which  all  alpestrians 
may  delight  in,  in  this  locality,  is  the  climb  over  the  white  granite  domes  of 
the  Percy  Peaks,  distant  about  six  miles  from  Groveton,  and  ascended  by  a 
mile  of  blueberry  paths. 

From  Groveton,  we  may  run  down  the  Grand  Trunk  line  to  Gorham  (near 
the  Glen  House),  a  distance  of  about  thirty  miles,  through  a  thinly  settled 
region,  with  interesting  views  of  unvisited  mountains. 

In  the  other  direction,  the  Grand  Trunk  runs  northward  along  the  rich 
Connecticut  intervales  for  a  dozen  miles,  to  North  Stratford,  two  miles  from 
the  well-known  Brunswick  White-Sulphur  Springs,  with  their  comfortable 
hotel  on  the  shore  of  Silver  Lake. 

The  Grand  Trunk  line  crosses  the  Connecticut  at  North  Stratford,  and 
fares  on  to  Island  Pond  and  the  great  cities  of  Canada,  lint  the  favorite 
route  for  lovers  of  wild  nature  leads  from  this  point  up  the  Upper-Coos 
Railroad,  following  the  Connecticut  River  through  the  happy  farming-towns 
of  Stewartstown  and  Colcbrook. 

Colebrook  is  a  pleasant  and  prosperous  village,  amid  charming  scenery 
of  green  and  purple  hills,  rich  farm-lands,  and  silvery  streams.  Across  the 
river  towers  the  upper  Monaclnock  Mountain,  at  whose  foot  Hows  the  Lcm- 
iiigtou  Mineral  Spring. 

A  pleasant  mad  leads  from  Colebronk  up  the  .Mohawk  Valley  for  ten 
miles  to  the  famous  Dixville  Notch,  with  its  well-kept  modern  hotel.  This 
is  not  a  pass  between  huge  ranges  of  mountains,  like  the  Crawford  and 
l-'ranconia  Notches,  but  a  league-long  gorge  cut  through  the  high  hills,  faced 
with  pinnacled  cliffs  of  mica-slate,  clothed  along  their  lower  courses  with 
dense  torests  ol  evergreens,  and  cutting  the  sky-line  with  marvellous  spiles 
and  crags  of  storm  worn  rock.  It  affords  a  scene  of  great  desolation  and 
startling  interest,  the  arrowv  spires  of  the  cliffs  resembling  the  forgotten 
ruins  of  some  Western  I'ctra.  Tlu-e  triumphant  wails  attain  a  height  of 
nine  hundred  feet  above  the  ravine,  in  whose  bottom  a  narrow  road  finds 
barelv  mom  to  wind  awav  toward  the  I'mbagog  piain-.  <  >i  mui"i-  attrac- 
tions.—  the  Klmiie,  the  be  Cave,  Table  Ro,  k.  |.io>bV  Ladder.  1  I  mi!  in-P  >u'> 


74 

Cascades,  and  others, —  the  Notch  has  its  full  share ;  and  paths  lead  upward 
to  beautiful  view-points  along  the  ridge,  and  through  the  quiet  forests  to 
brooks  beloved  by  trout.  For  these  wild  northern  townships  are  among  the 
best  fishing  and  hunting  grounds  in  New  England. 

At  the  eastern  end  of  the  Notch,  the  pastoral  beauty  of  the  Clear-Stream 
Meadows  is  outspread  like  a  little  Italy,  after  the  descent  from  the  alpine 
heights  behind.  A  few  miles  farther,  through  the  great  forest,  and  the  lonely 
road  reaches  Errol  Dam,  the  little  port  whence  the  steamboats  run  to  Lake 


THE    I'INNACI-ES. 


Umbagog  and  the  Upper  Magalloway  River.  Thence  also  roads  diverge 
to  Milan  and  Merlin,  and  to  Upton  and  IJethcl,  names  of  much  import  to 
summer-travellers  beyond  the  limiting  lines  of  the  fashionable  tour.  And 
the  transit  of  the  famous  Rangeley  Lakes  may  also  be  entered. 


75 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


THE  MERRIMAC  ROUTE. 

THE    LOWELL    SYSTEM.  —  A   RUN    ACROSS    MIDDLESEX.  —  THE  RIVER- 
CITIES. —  LAKE  WINNIPESAUKEE  AND  ITS  JOYOUS  CITY. 

THE  glories  of  the  mountain-land  as  entered  by  the  great  defile  of  the 
Saco  River,  and  reached  by  the  sea-shore   route  from   Boston,  have 
been  hereinbefore  rapidly  sketched  out.     Let  us  now  return  to  the 
famous  old  Puritan  city  down  on  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  re-enter  the 
highlands  by  the  western    route,  across  busy  Middlesex,  and   up   the  long 
valley  of   the   Merrimac.     This  avenue  of  approach  lies  over  the   Lowell 
System  of   the   Boston  &   Maine   Railroad;   and  starts  from  the  splendid 
terminal  station,  on  Causeway  Street,  Boston. 


<  >ver  the  many-bridged  Charles  River,  with  Hunker-Hill  Monument  on 
tlie  right  and  Cambridge  on  the  left;  across  Somcrville,  that  prospering 
suburban  city;  through  the  edge  of  Medford,  anciently  famous  for  ship-yards 
and  rum-distilleries;  by  the.  patrician  suburb  of  Winchester;  past  outlying 
villages  of  Woburn.  Wilmington,  and  ISillerica;  and  so  on  into  great  Lowell, 
the  City  of  Spindles.  The  train  llies  so  swiftly  that  the  morning  newspaper  is 
not  finished  when  the  broad  and  beautiful  Merrimac  comes  into  view,  and 
\\i-  enter  the  v.illey  which  leads  awav  up  to  Lake  \Yinnipcsaukee  anil  the 
Profile  Iloust-.  In  a  kw  minutes  more,  we  are  in  the  (lianite  Slate,  and 


76 

speeding  on  through  Nashua,  the  bright  and  increasing  manufacturing-city 
on  the  site  of  warlike  old  Dunstable. 

At  Goff's  Falls  the  river  is  crossed,  and  soon  afterward  the  largest  city 
in  New  Hampshire  comes  in  sight,  Manchester,  with  its  forty  thousand  in- 
habitants, and  prodigious  cotton-mills  drawn  up  along  the  river.  Above,  we 
may  look  across  the  whitening  Amoskeag  Falls  to  the  odd  little  Uncanoonuc 
Mountains ;  and  then,  beyond  hilly  Hookset,  we  reach  the  capital  of  the 
State,  handsome  little  Concord,  with  its  fine  public  buildings,  its  coach- 
factories,  and  granite-quarries.  Still  onward,  and  beyond  Canterbury,  home 
of  the  Shakers,  there  is  a  glimpse  of  Mount  Kearsarge,  on  the  left.  A  little 
time  more,  and,  beyond  Tilton  with  its  monumental  arch  of  marble,  the  long 
line  of  the  Sandwich  mountains  starts  into  sight,  on  the  left,  —  Chocorua, 
Whiteface,  Tripyramid,  and  other  conspicuous  peaks.  Thenceforward  for 
an  hour  these  monarchs  of  the  north  keep  gliding  into  view,  and  disappear- 
ing behind  nearer  hills,  and  re-grouping  themselves  in  new  combinations,  as 
the  route  leads  us  up  the  valley  of  the  Winnipesaukee  River  and  along  the 
beautiful  Winnesquam  Lake.  Here  we  come  to  Laconia,  and  then  to  Lake 
Village,  two  pleasant  manufacturing-places  on  these  swift-running  waters, 
with  hotels  and  boarding-houses  (especially  in  their  environs)  enough  for 
hundreds  of  guests.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  our  train  is  running  along  the 
shore  of  Lake  Winnipesaukee,  whose  exquisite  scenery  stretches  away  in 
rare  combinations  of  blue  waters,  graceful  islets,  and  the  long  lines  of  the 
Ossipee  Mountains,  with  Chocorua  and  his  brethren  on  one  side,  and  the 
symmetrical  Belknap  peaks  on  the  other.  Then  we  come  to  Weirs,  the  joy- 
ous city  of  the  whole  Lake  Country,  a  place  of  many  hotels,  large  and  small, 
and  summer-cottages,  and  camps,  visited  during  the  season  by  myriads  of 
people.  Here  the  swan-white  steamboat  lies  at  its  wharf  near  the  station, 
and  when  all  our  fellow-travellers  bound  for  an  inland  voyage  have  reached 
her  decks,  she  wanders  away  among  the  islands  and  their  water-lanes,  and 
comes  in  due  time  to  Centre  Harbor  and  Wolfeborough. 

A  few  miles  from  Weirs  brings  the  train  to  Meredith,  at  the  head  of  one 
of  the  shining  bays  of  Lake  Winnipesaukee,  and  within  five  miles  of  Centre 
1  larbor.  One  more  long  pull  through  the  woods,  with  the  great  mountains 
from  time  to  time  flashing  into  view,  far  away,  and  we  pass  Ashland,  whence 
the  stages  run  to  Asquam  Lake  and  its  glorious  scenery.  And  so,  emerging 
on  the  Pemigewasset  intervales,  with  the  pale  blue  pyramids  of  the  Fran- 
rmiia  Mountains  far  away  on  the  right  front,  we  reach  the  station  at  Plym- 
outh, and  stop  for  dinner. 


77 


79 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

PLYMOUTH. 

THE  EPISCOPAL  CHIMERA.  —  THE  HOLDERNESS  SCHOOL.  —  WEBSTER  AND 
HAWTHORNE.  —  MOUNT  PROSPECI 

A  LITTLE  aside  from  the  peaceful  levels  of  the  Lake  Country,  in  the 
western  gateway  of  the  mountains,  the  bright  village  of  Plymouth 
sleeps  on  its  broad  meadows,  dotted  with  bouquet-shaped  elms,  and 
almost  surrounded  by  distant  blue  peaks.  Throughout  the  year,  its 
glove-manufactories  bring  increasing  prosperity  to  this  typical  New-England 
town ;  and  the  occasional  court-terms  of  Grafton  County  give  another  inter- 
esting element  to  its  life.  But  the  best  estate  of  the  place  comes  in  the  long 
summer  days,  when  the  boarding-houses  are  full  of  happy  sojourners,  and 
the  Pemigewasset  House  has  its  hundreds  of  guests,  and  the  surrounding 
roads  are  enlivened  by  merry  driving-parties.  Here  the  rushing  Pemige- 
wasset River  receives  the  clear  waters  of  Baker  River,  the  Indian  Asqiiam- 
fhnmaukei  flowing  down  from  the  Moosilauke  country,  and  rich  in  legends 
of  the  aborigines  and  the  militant  pioneers.  The  broad  green  expanses  of 
the  meadows,  overlooked  by  shaggy  hills,  and  giving  vistas  of  far-away  alpine 
groups,  with  the  dainty  white  town  nestling  on  its  undulating  site,  present  a 
picture  like  some  fair  glen  of  Wordsworth's  country,  or  among  the  foot-hills 
of  Savoy.  The  village  has  a  goodly  scholastic  flavor,  withal,  for  here  stands 
the  State  Xormal  School  of  New  Hampshire;  and  upon  a  fair  height  above 
the  serene  meadows,  on  the  site  of  the  mansion  of  Chief-Justice  Samuel  Liv- 
ermore,  is  the  Holderness  School  for  Boys,  a  popular  institution  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church.  For  in  the  long-past  times  before  the  Revolution,  this  land 
was  granted  to  three-score  English  knights  and  gentlemen,  who  designed  to 
found  here  the  chief  city  of  all  New  England,  devoted  to  God  and  the  king, 
and  in  dignity,  refinement,  and  wealth  far  surpassing  Boston  of  the  Puritans. 
It  stood  not  as  they  wished,  and  the  desired  Anglican  metropolis  has  re- 
mained as  "the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision." 

lint  Plymouth  has  seen  two  events  of  great  import  in  the  life  of  cultured 
Xew  England, —  the  first  plea  of  Daniel  Webster,  and  the  death  of  Nathaniel 
Hawthorne.  The  former  occurred  in  the  old  Grafton-County  court-house, 
which  is  now  used  as  a  public  library,  where  several  thousand  volumes  are 
kept  for  the  use  of  the  villagers.  In  May,  iS(»4,  Hawthorne  retired  to  rest 
in  Room  No.  o,  at  the  Pemigewasset  House;  and  at  earlv  morning  his  trav- 
elling companion.  ex-President  Franklin  Pierce,  entered  the  chamber,  only  to 
find  (lie  great  romancer  lying  upon  his  side,  placid,  silent,  and  cold,  having 
passed  painlessly  from  his  slumber  of  the  night  into  that  longer  rest,  of 
whose  duration  none  can  tell. 


So 

By  all  means  make  the  ascent  of  old  North  Hill,  the  Mount  Prospect  of 
modern  days,  where  you  can  drive  your  carriage  to  the  airy  summit,  and 
overlook  the  fair  Lake  Country,  with  its  mosaic  of  deep  green  and  celestial 
blue,  and  the  sharp  Franconia  peaks,  and  far-away  Mount  Washington, 
Whiteface  and  Chocorua,  Kearsarge  and  Wachusett,  and  hundreds  of  less 


LIVEKMOKK    FALLS. 

familiar  mountains,  villages,  lakes,  and  streams.  And  you  may  drive  up  to 
the  Livermore  Falls,  or  to  Asquuni  Lake,  or  down  into  woodsy  Bridgewater, 
or  into  the  Campions,  or  around  Plymouth  Mountain,  or  over  to  Newfound 
Lake,  or  to  a  score  of  other  points  of  beauty  and  interest.  And,  withal,  this 
gem  of  a  highland  village-  is  within  three  or  four  hours  of  IJoston,  by  the 
lioMoii  \  Lowell  line. 


8i 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE  PEMIGEWASSET  VALLEY. 

AN  ABORIGINAL  JAW-HRKAKER. —  CAMI>TON  VILLAC.K.  —  MAD  RIVER'S 
SONG. —  WEST  CAMPTON. — THORNTON. — WOODSTOCK. — THE  EDGE  OK 
THE  WILDERNESS. — WATERVILLE. 

THIS  lovely  valley  bears  one  of  the  longest  of  our  inherited  Indian 
names,  Penaqui,  which  means  "crooked;"  waJf/in,  "mountain;" 
cooash,  "pine;"  and  anke,  "place."  As  the  long  glen  winds  in  and 
out  among  the  pine-clad  hills,  the  virtue  of  this  sesquipedalian  title 
becomes  apparent.  The  Femigewasset  River  descends  fifteen  hundred  feet 
in  its  thirty-mile  course  from  Profile  Lake  to  Plymouth,  the  first  five  miles 
through  the  narrow  gorge  of  the  Franconia  Notch,  and  then  more  than  a 
score  of  miles  down  the  valley  to  which  it  gives  its  name.  In  former  times, 
one  of  the  best  stage-rides  in  the  State  was  that  leading  from  Plymouth 
to  the  Profile  House,  with  many  an  enchanting  view  of  the  great  mountains 
ahead  and  on  cither  side.  But  latterly  a  railway  has  been  built  from  the 
proud  little  county  capital  up  through  the  Campions  and  Thorntons  and 
Woodstocks,  to  a  point  within  a  league  and  a  half  of  the  Flume  House, 
following  the  level  intervales,  and  crossing  and  re-crossing  the  madcap  river. 
Summer  boarding-houses  are  found  all  through  the  valley,  and  thousands  of 
guests  annually  enjoy  the  serenity  and  salubrity  of  this  idyllic  region.  There 
are  perhaps  ten  of  these  pensions  at  Campion  Village,  on  Mad  River,  and 
looking  up  the  prolonged  glens  of  that  wild  brook  to  Welch  Mountain  and 
Sandwich  Dome  and  Tripyramid,  a  noble  and  alpine  group  of  high  peaks, 
CMUvalling  ihe  Watervillc  valley.  Around  the  litllc  l!aplist  hamlet  are  far- 
viewing  eminences, — Campion  Hill,  Wallace  Hill,  Sunset  Hill,  and  others, — 
whose  prospects  include  the  great  ranges  to  the  northward,  and  the  jungle 
of  mountains  closing  around  Moosilauke.  This  is  a  region  beloved  by 
artists,  and  visited  by  them  for  over  half  a  century,  what  time  they  trans- 
ferred the  august  forms  and  rich  colorings  of  the  surrounding  scenery  to 
their  glowing  canvases.  There  are  many  charming  drives  in  the  vicinity, 
over  level  roads,  to  Campion  Hollow  and  Plymouth  and  the  other  villages 
along  the  stream.  The  year  after  (Jen.  Wolfe  conquered  Canada,  and  freed 
the  borders  of  Xew  England  from  fear  of  the  savages,  the  grantees  of  this 
glen  came  hither,  and  dwelt  in  a  primitive  camp,  whence  they  named  their 
new  settlement  Ctimp-ton.  Thirty  of  their  free-born  descendants  gave  up 
their  lives  in  the  great  Civil  War. 

Longfellow's   last   poem  is  devoted  to  Mad   River,  which  tells  us  story  to 
a  pas>ing  traveller  : 


82 

"  A  brooklet  nameless  and  unknown 

Was  I  at  first,  resembling 
A  little  child,  that  all  alone 
Comes  venturing  down  the  stairs  of  stone, 
Irresolute  and  trembling. 

Later,  by  wayward  fancies  led, 

For  the  wide  world  I  panted ; 
Out  of  the  forest  dark  and  dread 
Across  the  open  fields  I  fled, 

Like  one  pursued  and  haunted. 

I  tossed  my  arms,  I  sang  aloud, 

My  voice  exultant  blending 
With  thunder  from  the  passing  cloud, 
The  wind,  the  forest  bent  and  bowed, 

The  rush  of  rain  descending. 

I  heard  the  distant  ocean  call. 

Imploring  and  entreating; 
Drawn  onward  o'er  this  rocky  wall 
I  plunged,  and  the  loud  waterfall 

Made  answer  to  the  greeting." 

About  two  miles  from  Campton  Village,  across  the  intervales  of  the 
Pemigewasset,  and  by  a  road  running  over  a  bridge  instead  of  through  the 
precarious  rocky  ford  which  we  used  until  within  a  few  years,  is  the  tiny 
hamlet  of  West  Campton,  another  of  the  delicious  by-ways  of  travel  in  which 
this  district  abounds.  Here  stands  Sanborn's,  the  old  Stag-and-Hounds  Inn, 
founded  in  1841,  and  the  haunt  of  many  famous  artists, —  Cole  and  Durand, 
Harding  and  Doughty,  Casilear  and  Richards,  Champney  and  Shapleigh, 
and  dozens  of  others,  —  who  found  the  scenery  hereabouts  to  almost  rival 
that  of  North  Conway.  The  rich  greensward  of  the  intervale,  the  inimitably 
graceful  elms,  the  bordering  thickets  and  forests,  the  glimmering  river,  and 
the  great  blue  mountains  have  been  composed  by  these  wandering  painters 
into  innumerable  rich  and  delicate  pictures,  full  of  utmost  poetry  of  form 
and  color.  The  famous  Starr-King  View,  one  of  the  finest  in  all  New  Kng- 
land,  is  obtained  from  a  point  on  the  road  near  Sanborn's,  and  includes  the 
grand  blue  spires  of  Franconia,  especially  effective  towards  sunset,  in  glori- 
ous hues  of  purple,  crimson,  and  orange.  More  distant  is  Cook's  Hill, 
yielding  another  wondrous  view  from  its  unfrequented  pastures. 

Above  Campton  comes  the  long  town  of  Thornton,  with  no  village  or 
hamlet,  and  occupied  by  about  a  hundred  families  of  fanners,  who  derive 
small  incomes  from  the  corn  and  potato  crops  of  the  lowlands,  and  the 
maple-sugar  of  the  hill-forests.  It  received  its  name  in  honor  of  Col.  Mat- 
thew Thornton,  one  of  the  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  who 
was  among  its  first  grantees;  and  the  little  local  church  for  many  years 
received  the  ministrations  of  Dr.  Noah  Worcester,  the  founder  of  the  Peace 
Society.  Amid  these  peaceful  farms,  whose  rich  acres  tesselate  the  mead- 
ows with  their  waving  crops,  there  are  half  a  do/en  summer  boarding-houses, 
with  inspiring  views  over  the  bree/y  hills  that  hem  in  either  side  of  the  val- 
ley, and  rise  by  picturesque  gradations  to  Mount  Tecumseh  on  the  east  and 


83 

Moosilauke  on  the  west.  The  views  from  the  road  over  Oilman  Hill  and 
from  Peaked  Hill  are  the  finest  in  this  glen;  and  from  the  solitary  town- 
house  a  road  leads  eastward  to  the  beautiful  Mill-Brook  cascades. 

Above  Thornton  conies  the  forest-town  of  Woodstock,  with  over  thirty 
thousand  acres  of  woodlands,  traversed  by  bright  trout-brooks,  and  broken 
into  ranges  of  untrodden  hills,  Trosach-like  in  their  wild  beauty.  Of  late 
years,  it  has  advanced  more  rapidly  as  a  summer-resort  than  any  of  the 
other  valley-towns,  and  can  take  care  of  more  than  six  hundred  of  the 
"  cities'  caged  ones  "  in  its  dozen  rustic  pensions.  Plenty  of  pure  air,  good 
water,  and  imposing  scenery,  fishing  and  hunting,  riding  over  picturesque 
roads,  rambling  along  cool  meadows  and  among  ancient  forests  unite  to 
charm  the  wayfarer.  From  the  openings  in  the  narrow  valley  two-score  of 
mountain-peaks  are  seen,  closing  in  at  the  north  at  the  colossal  gateway  of 
the  Franconia  Notch,  walled  in  by  stately  peaks.  Waternomee,  Moosilauke, 
Cannon,  Lafayette,  Liberty,  Iluntington,  and  Loon-Pond  Mountain  cluster 
around  the  little  glen  in  massive  ranks,  clear  in  the  sunlight  or  draped  with 
drifting  clouds.  Up  on  the  high  plateau  of  Loon  Mountain  is  a  great  pond, 
fringed  with  rocks,  and  surrounded  by  unbroken  solitudes  of  highland 
forests.  The  Grafton  Mineral  Spring,  with  its  healing  waters;  the  wilder- 
ness-drive into  Thornton  Gore;  the  vast  prospect  from  Wyatt  Hill;  the 
charming  rock-and-water  scenery  of  the  Agassiz  Basins  ;  the  ice-caves  near 
the  Beaver-Brook  cascades;  the  Elbow  Ponds,  out  near  Mount  Cilley;  the 
Pilot-Hill  Basin,  hid  among  the  hills;  the  cliffs  of  Bryant's  Ledge;  the  bold 
rocks  of  Parker's  Cliff,  afford  material  for  many  pleasant  rambles.  On  the 
west,  a  path  seven  miles  long  leads  through  the  forests  and  defiles  to  Mount 
Moosilauke.  And  up  in  the  edge  of  the  great  Pemigewassct  wilderness, 
where  the  road  stops  in  dismay  at  the  unbroken  jungles  ahead,  is  the  lonely 
house  of  Pollard,  the  guide  for  all  this  savage  region,  for  Loou  Pond  and 
Hancock  Branch  and  Thoreau  Falls  and  Ethan's  Pond,  and  many  another 
rarely  visited  locality.  It  is  over  twenty  miles  (or  a  hard  two  or  three  days' 
journey)  from  this  outpost  of  civilization  to  the  White-Mountain  Xotch, 
through  a  trackless  solitude. 

The  northern  terminus  of  the  Pemigewasset- Valley  Railroad  is  at  North 
Woodstock,  near  the  hotels;  and  thence  old-fashioned  mountain-stages  dash 
away  upward  to  the  Flume  House,  four  and  a  half  miles  away,  and  farther 
on  to  the  Profile  House. 

There  is  a  delightful  side-excursion  from  the  Pemigewasset  Valley,  a 
dozen  miles  from  Campton  Village,  to  the  mountain-walled  glen  of  Water- 
ville,  an  immense  township  with  a  population  of  fewer  than  two-score 
persons.  The  boarding-house  in  this  secluded  basin  was  for  many  years 
known  as  Greeley's,  and  is  always  occupied  in  summer  by  cultivated  Bosto- 
nians,  of  the  professional  classes,  who  find  here  great  peace  and  congenial 
society,  amid  scenery  of  renowned  beauty.  The  only  road  in  the  town  is  the 
one  leading  up  .Mad  River.  By  this  you  enter  Watervilk1,  and  bv  this  you 
depart.  Sturdy  climbers  may  find  their  way  over  the  vague  bridle-path  to 
I.ivermore  and  the  White-Mountain  Notch,  fifteen  miles  distant,  or  along  the 
disused  trail  over  Flat  Mountain  to  Sandwich.  And  the  writer  of  these  lines 


84 

has  dragged  himself  over  the  top  of  Sandwich  Dome,  and  again  over  the  top 
of  Tripyramid  and  Whiteface,  and  so  descended  to  the  Lake  Country.  But 
it  is  much  more  sensible,  and  conducive  to  integrity  of  garments,  to  return 
down  the  Mad-River  road,  after  a  sufficient  stay  in  the  glen.  The  air  is 
remarkably  pure  and  cool,  the  falling  waters  are  clear  as  crystal,  and  the 
majestic  mountain-slopes  nobly  enfold  the  dainty  little  valley.  Conventional 
souls  find  here  their  opportunities  for  knitting  afghans  and  reading  novels, 
for  poring  over  newspapers  and  playing  whist ;  and  the  adventurous  and 
athletic  may  ramble  to  the  Cascades,  the  Greeley  Ponds,  the  Flume  (Water- 
ville  has  one  of  its  own),  and  other  fair  woodland  scenes.  And  here  begin 
the  paths  up  the  great  mountains  of  Osceola  and  Tecumseh  and  Sandwich 
Dome  (so  called  by  scientific  persons,  though  the  rustics  number  it  among 
their  many  "Black  Mountains"),  each  a  tramp  of  miles,  mostly  vertical,  and 
yielding  fascinating  views  over  the  Lake  Country  and  the  wild  pell-mell  of 
highlands  to  the  north. 


AGASSIZ    BASIN 


86 


CHAPTER   XIX. 


THE  ASQUAMCHUMAUKE  VALLEY. 

A  TRAIL  OF  CENTURIES. —  RUMNEY. —  JOHN  STARK,  TRAPPER  AND  GEN- 
ERAL. —  WENTWORTH.  —  WARREN.  —  MOOSILAUKE. 

THE  ancient  Indian  trails  led  out  from  Plymouth  up  the  long  valley  of 
the  Asquamchumauke  (asquam,  "  water ; "  -wadchu,  "  mountain ; "  m  for 
euphony;  auke,  "place"  —  "Water  of  the  Mountain-Place"),  the  river 
since  re-named  in  honor  of  Capt.  Baker,  the  gallant  ranger.  The 
Provincial  turnpike  followed  the  same  route;  and  now  the  railway,  by  which 
we  have  flashed  up  the  country  from  Boston  and  Lowell,  sweeps  along  the 
same  highway  of  centuries.  First  it  enters  the  narrowing  glens  of  Rumney, 
hemmed  between  high  and  shaggy  mountains,  and  with  its  two  white 
hamlets,  where  several  scores  of  refugees  from  the  cities  spend  their  vaca- 
tion-days. When  John  Stark  was  a  poor  young  trapper,  hunting  along  this 
stream,  with  three  companions,  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  who, 
hiding  themselves,  tried  to  compel  him  to  invite  his  friends  to  row  their 
canoe  ashore.  Instead,  he  shouted  to  them  to  escape,  for  the  Indians  had 
him,  and  when  the  angry  redskins  aimed  at  the  fleeing  hunters,  he  struck  up 
their  rifles.  Beaten  half  to  death  by  his  captors,  he  was  borne  to  Canada. 
A  year  later  his  friends  ransomed  the  hero,  afterwards  the  victor  over  Bur- 
goyne's  Hessian  troops  at  Bennington,  and  major-general  commanding  the 
Northern  Department  of  the  United  States. 

A  few  miles  above  West  Rumney,  the  Congregational  hamlet  of  Wcnt- 
worth  comes  into  view,  near  Mount  Cuba  and  the  Baker  Ponds.  Here  is 
another  favorite  resting-place  of  unfashionable  summer-travellers,  in  a  quiet 
farming-town,  surrounded  by  highland  scenery.  The  next  railsvay  village  is 
Warren,  a  long  and  rambling  street  of  houses,  among  and  beyond  which  are 
several  farms  where  people  get  summer-homes  for  small  prices.  Few  towns 
are  so  rich  in  ponds  and  brooks  and  cascades  and  picturesque  hills.  There 
is  also  great  wealth  of  traditions  here,  pertaining  to  the  old  Indian  and 
pioneer  days,  and  narrated  with  unusual  literary  skill  in  Little's  "  History 
of  Warren." 

Moosilauke  is  one  of  the  noblest  mountains  in  New  England,  on  account 
of  its  imposing  size,  its  unexcelled  view,  and  its  surrounding  curiosities  of 
Nature.  It  is  five  and  a  half  miles  from  Warren  to  the  base,  and  a  good 
carriage-road  five  miles  long  leads  thence  to  the  summit,  for  the  last  half- 
mile  running  along  the  bare  and  narrow  ridge,  of  which  Col.  Iligginson 
says:  "As  you  traverse  it,  you  seem  to  walk  along  the  heights  of  heaven." 
The  utmost  peak  is  crowned  by  a  comfortable  hotel  accommodating  fifty 


8? 

guests.  There  are  footpaths  leading  to  this  great  peak  from  North  Wood- 
stock, Kaston  (towards  Franconia),  and  Warren  Summit.  There  are  many 
who  prefer  the  Moosilauke  view  to  any  other  in  all  this  land  of  mountains, 
and  it  has  the  advantage  of  the  other  famous  and  much  visited  peaks  in 
being  comparatively  free  from  obscuring  clouds  and  fogs.  Several  pages  in 
Ticknor's  Guide  are  devoted  to  a  minute  description  of  it,  point  by  point, 
and  to  the  wonderful  legends  of  its  ravines.  It  is  idle  to  try  to  condense 
them  here.  Lafayette,  Washington,  Carrigain,  Kearsarge,  Osceola,  Choco- 
rua,  Winnipesaukee,  Wachuset,  Monadnock,  Ascutney,  Greylock,  the  Green 
Mountains,  Mount  Marcy  of  the  Adirondack  group,  Owl's  Head  and  Orford 
in  Canada, —  all  these  are  in  plain  sight,  and  a  hundred  others,  and  the 
garden-valley  of  the  Connecticut.  Washington  Gladden  says:  "The  view 
from  the  summit  of  Moosilauke  is,  on  the  whole,  the  most  thoroughly  satis- 
factory and  inspiring  view  I  have  ever  seen.  The  Alps  and  the  Vosemite 
keep  their  wonders  in  store  for  me;  but  I  have  seen  most  of  the  New- 
England  scenery,  and  I  give  my  hearty  preference  to  Moosilauke  over  every 
mountain  whose  top  I  have  climbed.  The  view  from  Washington  is  vast 
but  vague ;  the  view  from  Lafayette  is  noble,  but  it  shows  us  little  of  the 
sweet  restfulness  of  the  Connecticut  Valley;  on  Moosilauke  we  get  all  forms 
of  grandeur  and  all  types  of  beauty.  And  we  get  it  so  easily!  I  made  the 
ascent  four  times  last  summer,  with  increasing  enjoyment,  and  I  wish  that  all 
those  visitors  to  the  mountain,  to  whom  the  other  peaks  are  familiar,  could 
know  of  the  glory  that  waits  to  be  revealed  to  them  from  the  top  of  Moosi- 
lauke." 


It  is  but  a  short  ride  over  the  hcight-of-land  from  Warren  station  to  the 
upper  valley  of  the  Oliverian  l>rook,  clown  whose  course  the  train  glides  to 
the  station  at  Ilavcrhill,  close  to  the  great  Connecticut  River. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

THE    COOS   MEADOWS. 

HAVERHILL. — A  DREAMY  COUNTRY-TOWN. — BLACK  MOUNTAIN  IN  BEN- 
TON. —  NEWBURY. —  A  BEAUTIFUL  MEADOW-LAND.  —  MONTEBELLO 
SPRINGS.  —  MOUNT  PULASKI.  —  WOODSVILLE  AND  WELLS  RIVER. 

WHEN  the  pioneers  from  Massachusetts  came  up  into  this  Indian- 
haunted  country,  the  famous  Coos  meadows,  in  1762,  they  named 
their  new  towns  after  the  two  chief  places  in  their  fondly  remem- 
bered Essex  North,  to  wit,  Haverhill  and  Newbury.  Haverhill  is 
now  an  ancient  country-town,  with  its  inn  and  Congregational  church  and 
academy  and  the  old-time  mansions  of  the  local  and  professional  aristocracy 
resting  around  the  common,  shaded  by  immemorial  trees,  and  not  far  from 
the  venerable  court-house  of  Grafton  County.  The  dominant  characteristic 
of  the  place  is  its  amazing  stillness  and  repose,  right  well  calculated  to  rest 
brains  and  nerves  on  edge  with  the  roar  of  Broadway  and  State  Street.  The 
manufacturing-suburb  on  the  Oliverian  Brook  is  well  secluded  from  this  quiet 
and  dignified  village ;  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  below,  the  lovely  inter- 
vales of  the  Connecticut  spread  out  for  thousands  of  acres,  rich  in  the  varied 
products  of  Yankee  farms.  This  town  alone  produces  seven  thousand  tons 
of  hay  yearly,  besides  potatoes  and  barley,  oats  and  corn,  maple-sugar  and 
wheat  sufficient  to  feed  hungry  legions.  Across  the  verdant  meadows,  a 
league  or  so  away,  is  fair  Xewbury,  and  one  of  the  pleasantest  drives  in  this 
vicinity  leads  round  this  famous  Ox-Bow,  and  through- North  Haverhill, 
Woodsville,  Wells  River,  and  Xewbury,  a  great  circle  around  the  alluvial 
plain. 

Still  broader  is  the  view  from  Catamount  Hill,  a  mile  out  of  the  village, 
or  from  Powder-House  Hill,  on  the  other  side.  And  if  one  wants  a  capital 
mountain-trip,  with  plenty  of  hard  climbing  and  amply  rewarding  views,  the 
rocky  Benton  Range  may  be  attacked  from  Haverhill,  and  from  Black  Moun- 
tain's splendid  crest  of  white  rocks  he  may  look  out  on  Moosilauke  and 
Lafayette,  and  enjoy  a  bird's-eye  view  of  the  Arcadian  valley. 

On  the  Vermont  side  of  the  great  Connecticut  Valley,  opposite  Haverhill, 
a  plateau  makes  out  from  Mount  Pulaski,  upbearing  the  lovely  and  tranquil 
village  of  Newbury,  with  its  churches  and  academy  and  elm-shadowed  com- 
mon, and  many  legends  of  the  ancient  clays,  when  the  beginnings  of  New 
England  were  in  progress.  There  can  hardly  be  a  fairer  prospect  in  all  these 
States  (or  in  the  world  beside)  than  that  given  from  the  little  rocky  hill  of 
Montebello,  on  the  edge  of  the  hamlet;  and  '•Picturesque  America"  has 
done  well  to  praise  its  exquisite  beauty.  The  foreground  is  occupied  by 


89 


90 

the  great  Ox-Bow  intervales,  covering  four  hundred  and  fifty  acres  with  their 
rich  farm-lands,  golden  grain  and  deep-green  meadow-grass,  and  nearly  en- 
circled by  the  broad  silvery  curves  of  the  Connecticut,  placid  and  stately, 
and  flashing  in  the  warm  sunlight.  Beyond  this  foreground  of  Paradise-like 
beauty,  the  alder-bushes  along  the  stream  give  place  to  dark  woods  and 
steep  upland  pastures;  and  over  these  rise  the  fine  peaks  of  the  Benton 
Range,  Black  and  Sugar  Loaf  and  Owl's  Head,  ten  miles  long,  and  over- 
looked by  the  grand  purple-tinted  Moosilauke.  The  highest  of  the  Benton 
peaks  reaches  but  little  over  three  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  but  smooth 
pastures  lead  up  to  the  very  edges  of  the  cliffs,  and  lend  to  the  prospect  an 
unusually  alpine  aspect  of  ruggedness  and  height.  The  combination  of  this 
long  line  of  stern  uplifted  crags  and  the  idyllic  peace  and  soft  Southern 
beauty  of  the  Connecticut  intervale  is  the  glory  of  the  Xewbury  view.  In 
rambling  along  the  meadow,  a  hundred  changing  phases  of  this  prospect  may 
be  gained,  with  the  charming  accessories  of  the  great  lowland  elms,  most 
graceful  of  all  New  England's  wealth  of  trees. 

Under  the  shadow  of  Montebello  is  a  group  of  mineral  springs,  resem- 
bling those  of  Harrowgate,  and  in  popular  use  for  medicinal  purposes  since 
the  dawn  of  the  century.  The  iron  springs  are  strongly  tonic,  and  have  been 
found  efficient  in  enriching  the  blood;  and  the  sulphur-water,  administered  in 
heated  baths,  is  said  to  heal  a  great  variety  of  maladies,  from  brain-exhaus- 
tion at  one  end  to  gout  at  the  other.  There  is  a  large  boarding-house  here, 
with  scientific  bath-rooms  and  other  adjuncts;  and  if  urban  guests  are  not 
benefitted  by  the  celebrated  mineral  waters,  they  will  surely  be  the  better  for 
the  pure  air  and  sylvan  quiet  of  the  place,  and  its  views  of  dreamland  beauty. 
If  a  vaster  prospect  is  desired,  it  may  be  had  from  the  top  of  Mount  I'ulaski, 
a  cliff-bound  hill  not  far  from  the  village-street ;  and  other  interesting  scenes 
appear  from  the  roads  to  Bradford  and  Piermont,  and  Haverhill  and  Wells 
River,  or  back  among  the  hemming  hills  of  Vermont. 

Up  at  the  head  of  the  valley  are  the  twin  villages  of  Woodsville  and 
Wells  River,  separated  by  the  Connecticut  River,  and  overlooked  by  the 
ponderous  Mount  Gardner.  This  is  a  convergent  point  of  several  railways, 
—  the  Boston  &  Lowell,  Passumpsic  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine,  and 
Mpntpelier  and  Wells-River  lines.  There  is  much  changing  of  cars  here,  by 
passengers  bound  to  and  from  the  White  Mountains;  and  then  the  moun- 
tain-train runs  back  over  the  bridge  it  has  just  crossed,  and  rolls  away  up  the 
Wild-Ammonoosuc  valley,  past  quiet  old  Bath,  with  its  group  of  boarding- 
houses;  and  Lisbon,  a  busy  village  with  gold  and  copper  mines,  and  several 
public  houses.  Stages  leave  this  station  for  Sugar  Hill,  the  far-viewing 
ridge  over  the  Franconia  valley.  A  few  more  miles  up  the  long  Ammonoosuc 
glen,  and  the  train  slows  up  at  Littleton. 

Down  in  the  valley  of  the  Ammonoosuc,  close  beside  the  rushing  stream, 
nestles  the  busy  village  of  Littleton,  with  its  churches  and  country-stores, 
and  its  glove-factories  and  other  profitable  industries,  whose  output  reaches 
half  a  million  dollars  a  year.  And  here  also  is  the  great  Kilburn  .-terco- 
scopic-views  factorv,  who<e  pictures  of  the  mountains  are  known  all  over  the 
country. 


9' 

On  the  high  hill  above  Littleton,  overlooking  the  village  and  the  Ammo- 
noosuc  Valley,  and  giving  one  of  the  grandest  possible  views  of  the  White 
and  Franconia  Mountains  far  beyond,  are  the  two  chief  summer-hotels  of 
this  vicinity,  attractive  in  their  architecture,  and  surrounded  by  verdant  lawns 
and  perfumed  pine-groves  and  beds  of  bright  flowers.  The  surroundings 
are  delightfully  quiet  and  rural,  while  within  ten  minutes'  walk  one  can  enter 
the  busy  main  street  below,  with  its  many  shops  and  other  conveniences, 
often  missed  at  the  remoter  summer-resorts. 

There  is  an  unusual  number  of  pleasant  rural  drives  around  Littleton, 
leading  to  Franconia,  Sugar  Hill,  Bethlehem,  Lisbon,  Gilmanton  Hill,  Upper 
Waterford  (and  the  Fifteen-Mile  Falls  on  the  Connecticut  River),  and  many 
other  points,  with  capital  views  of  the  great  mountains,  and  of  the  unknown 
hills  of  Vermont.  And  close  about  the  village  are  Mount  Eustis,  Mann's 
Hill,  Parker's  Cliff,  Morrison's  Hill,  and  other  famous  view-points,  from 
whose  airy  pastures  are  gained  some  of  the  fairest  valley  and  mountain 
views  in  all  Xew  England. 

Take  it  all  in  all,  the  Waterford  drive  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  in 
this  neighborhood,  with  the  quaint  old  Vermont  hamlets  of  Upper  and 
Lower  Waterford,  and  the  musical  rapids  of  the  river. 

The  railway  advances  from  Littleton  to  Lancaster  and  Groveton,  up  the 
Connecticut  Valley ;  and  a  branch  line  turns  in  towards  the  mountains,  to 
Itethlehem  and  the  Profile  House,  Fabyan's  and  Mount  Washington,  the 
White-Mountain  Notch  and  North  Comvay.  All  these  points,  famous 
among  summer-tourists,  are  more  fully  described  in  earlier  chapters  of  this 
book. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  MASSACHUSETTS. 

SUDBURY  AND  THE  WAYSIDE  INN. —  PRINCETON  AND  WACHUSETT. — 
THE  NASHUA  VALLEY.— RUTLAND  AND  BARRE. —  BELCHERTOWN.— 
AMHERST. —  HADLEY.—  NORTHAMPTON. —  MOUNT  HOLYOKE. 

THIS  route  leaves  the  great  Lowell  station,  in  Boston,  and  at  Somerville 
turns  off  to  the  westward.     From  Cambridge  Junction  a  branch  line 
diverges  to  the  historic  towns  of  Lexington  and  Concord,  and  to  the 
pleasant  summer-resort  of  Bedford  Springs.     The  Central  line  keeps 
to  the  westward,  past  the  aristocratic  hill-suburb  of  Belmont ;  and  Waverly, 
famous  for  its  venerable  oak-groves;   and  Waltham,  the  seat  of  the  great 
watch-factory,  and  close  to  Prospect  Hill ;   and  Weston,  with  its  patrician 


country-estates;  and  Wayland,  a  lovely  rural  town  with  a  new  summer-hotei 
There  arc  several  stations  in  the  old  town  of  Sudbnry,  with  farm  boarding- 
houses  among  the  fields  and  woods.  Here,  also,  still  stands  the  quaint 
Wayside  Inn,  founded  in  1666,  and  immortalized  in  Longfellow's  poem: 

"  One  autumn  nijjht,  in  Smllniry  tnwn, 
Across  the  meadows  Imrc  and  brown, 
The  windows  of  the  wayside  inn 
(lieamcd  red  witli  firelight   through   the  leaves. 
As  ancient  is  this  hostelry 
As  any  in  the  land  may  lie. 
A  kind  of  old  Hobyoblin  Hall, 
Now  somewhat  fallen  to  decay." 


93 

Two  other  volumes  of  verse — Dr.  T.  \V.  Parsons's  "Tlie  Old  House  at 
Sudbury  "  and  Cierry's  book  of  rural  poems  —  have  found  their  themes  in 
this  pleasant  town.  Just  beyond  South  Sudbury,  we  get  a  glimpse  of  Sud- 
bury Centre.  The  State  built  a  monument  here  to  commemorate  the  battle 
of  April  21,  1676,  when  King  Philip's  Indians  \\ellnigh  destroyed  the  village, 
and  annihilated  a  detachment  marching  to  its  rescue. 

Westward  the  route  keeps  its  way,  around  the  bold  hills  and  through  the 
forests  of  Hudson  and  Bolton  and  Berlin  and  the  Boylstons;  and  at  Oakdale, 
where  the  Ouinnapoxet  and  Still  Rivers  unite,  it  crosses  the  Worcester, 
Nashua  &  Portland  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine,  running  from  Wor- 
cester, a  few  miles  to  the  southward,  to  Nashua,  Rochester,  and  Portland. 
Descending  the  Quinnapoxet  Valley,  fine  views  of  Wachusett  Mountain  are 
gained,  and  also  of  Princeton  village,  one  of  the  most  popular  mountain- 
resorts  in  Massachusetts,  where  the  lone  peak  of  Wachusett  rises  high  over 


OLD    HADLI5Y. 


the  Woivester-Coimty  plains.  Princeton,  with  its  summer-hotels,  is  situated 
on  a  high  plateau,  with  charming  views  in  every  direction.  Three  miles 
beyond  the  village,  a  capital  carriage-road  reaches  the  Summit  House, 
whence  you  can  see  Monadnock,  Kearsarge,  Moosilauke,  the  White  Moun- 
tains, Boston,  and  a  hundred  towns  and  villages,  mountains  and  lakes,  anil 
ha/.y  vallevs. 

The  Worcester,  Nashua  \    Portland   Division,  a  link  in  one  of  the  routes 
from  New  York  to  the  White  Mountains,  runs  down  through 


railroad  to  Fitchburg.  A  few  miles  beyon  is  the  lovely  old  village  of 
Lancaster,  with  elm-lined  streets,  patrician  villas,  and  summer  boarding- 
houses. 

Farther  on  are  the  stations  of  Harvard,  Aver  Junction,  and  Groton,  all  of 
them  near  famous  old  hill-villages,  in  a  picturesque  land  of  lakes  and  glens. 
Many  hundreds  of  people  from  Boston  summer  among  these  convenient 
highlands.  Pepperell  is  another  deeply  interesting  old  village  on  this  route, 
near  the  Nissitisset  Hills,  and  with  the  manorial  estate  of  the  Prescotts. 

Next,  our  westward  line  enters  the  rich  old  farming-town  of  Rutland,  at 
the  exact  geographical  centre  of  Massachusetts,  and  twelve  hundred  feet 
above  the  sea,  favored  by  many  summer-guests ;  and  passes  near  the  once- 
famous  Coldbrook  Springs,  amid  the  Oakham  hills ;  and  traverses  Barre  and 
Barre  Plains,  amid  the  dairy-farms  of  the  Ware-River  Vallev,  and  not  far 


'•_  •»     T  •  BA.suppLX.CC. 

OX-BOW    IX   COXXECTICIT    RIVER,    FROM    MOUNT   NONOTTCK. 

from  the  summer-resort  of  Petersham.  The  glens  of  Ware  River  are  fol- 
lowed by  the  factory-villages  of  Gilbertville  and  Ware,  and  so  on  to  Bonds- 
ville,  the  route  bending  far  south  to  avoid  the  great  ridges  which  environ  the 
Swift  River.  Then  it  swings  around  to  the  north-west,  amid  rugged  highland 
scenery,  following  the  valley,  which  is  also  the  route  of  the  New-London 
Northern  Railroad. 

Belchertown  is  a  bright  and  handsome  village  near  the  western  end  of 
the  Mount-IIolyoke  range,  abounding  in  interesting  scenery  of  lakes  and 
hills,  and  latterly  much  visited  in  summer,  especially  by  New-Yorkers.  In 
this  remote  mountain-glen  Dr.  J.  G.  Holland  was  born,  and  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  preached  his  first  sermon. 

Beyond  Belchertown,  the  line  descends  toward  the  Connecticut  Valley, 


95 

with  views  of  the  Holyoke  peaks,  winding  and  unwinding  in  charming  com- 
binations, and  seen  across  lily-strewn  ponds  and  rugged  farm-lands.  Pres- 
ently the  college-town  of  Amherst  is  reached,  with  its  handsome  and  high- 
placed  educational  buildings  and  summer  pleasures,  and  the  famous  Amherst 
College  and  the  Massachusetts  Agricultural  College.  From  this  favorable 
centre,  we  may  visit  Mount  Toby  or  Norwottuck ;  or  explore  the  garden-like 
valley. 

A  long  grade  carries  the  train  down  to  Iladley,  one  of  the  loveliest  vil- 
lages in  America,  whose  great  street,  a  mile  long  and  sixteen  rods  wide, 
with  quadruple  lines  of  ancient  elms,  has  been  justly  called  "the  handsomest 


MOI'NT    IK  il. YOKE,    FKOM    HOCKANTM    1'KKKY. 

street  by  nature  in  all  New  Knglaiul.1'  All  this  region  is  filled  with  memories 
of  the  old  Indian  wars,  but  the  savages  always  sulfered  defeat  before  the 
walls  of  Iladley.  and  retired  in  dismay  to  the  wilderness.  This  is  the  town 
where  Cen.  CofYc,  the  regicide  judge,  headed  the  people  in  a  heroic  repulse 
of  the  red  invaders.  And  here,  a  century  and  a  half  later,  of  the  same 
gallant  race.  Fighting  foe  Hooker  was  born. 

Across  the  lovely  intervales  of  the  Connecticut  gcK-s  our  railway,  and 
then  over  the  river  on  a  lonu  bridge,  with  e.Mjui.-ite  views  on  either  side. 
And  so  we  reach  Northampton,  the  pleasant  little  city  on  the  Connecticut, 
with  its  prosperous  manufactories  and  proud  local  spirit.  This  is  the  seat  of 


96 

Smith  College,  a  richly  endowed  and  prosperous  institution  for  the  higher 
education  of  women.  One  of  the  great  lunatic  asylums  of  the  State  stands 
near  the  city;  and  on  Round  Hill,  once  famous  for  its  classical  school,  "the 
Massachusetts  Eton,"  is  the  Clarke  Institution  for  Mutes.  The  history  of 
this  section  of  the  valley  overflows  with  romantic  interest,  and  many  of  the 
chief  men  of  Massachusetts  originated  here.  Among  the  citizens  at  the 
present  time  is  George  W.  Cable,  the  famous  Louisiana  author. 

It  is  only  two  miles  to  Mount  Holyoke,  with  its  inclined  railway  and 
summit-hotel,  and  a  view  which  is  absolutely  unexcelled  for  beauty,  includ- 
ing, as  it  does,  the  fair  meadows,  the  far-winding  Connecticut,  the  spires  of 
Springfield  and  Hartford  and  scores  of  other  towns,  the  heights  about  New 
Haven,  Greylock  and  the  Berkshire  Hills,  leagues  upon  leagues  of  the  Green 
Mountains,  and  the  blue  peaks  of  Monadnock  and  Wachusett.  In  easy 
excursions  from  Northampton,  we  may  also  visit  the  Mount-Holyoke  Col- 
lege and  Seminary,  where  New-England  girls  have  come  for  education 
during  more  than  half  a  century;  and  historic  Hatfield,  ofttimes  stormed  by 
hostile  Indian  bands,  but  now  engaged  in  the  peaceful  cultivation  of  tobacco  ; 
and  Old  Hadley,  dreaming  on  its  verdant  meadows;  and  Florence,  with  its 
great  silk-mills;  and  Goshen,  high  up  among  the  hills;  and  many  another 
pretty  hamlet  or  far-viewing  mountain,  in  the  garden  of  Massachusetts. 

Stedman  sings,  of  Northampton  : 

"  There  still  the  giant  warders  stand 

And  watch  the  current's  downward  flow, 
And  northward  still,  with  threatening  h?.nd, 

The  river  bends  his  ancient  bow. 
I  see  the  hazy  lowlands  meet 

The  sky,  and  count  each  shining  spire, 
From  these  which  sparkle  at  my  fsst, 

To  distant  steeples  tipt  with  fire." 

As  a  well-known  English  traveller  has  written  :  "Ah!  surely  this  whole 
Connecticut  Valley,  and  the  river  that  goes  meandering  through  it,  is  one 
of  the  chosen  homes  of  romance.  How  musical  its  names!  —  Chicopee, 
Agawani,  Massasoit,  and  so  on.  The  scenery  will  compare  with  that  of  the 
famed  Rhine  and  Moselle  —  indeed,  it  has  more  variety,  for  the  vine  is  omni- 
present there,  while  the  blossoming  and  fragrant  trees  that  line  the  banks 
of  the  Connecticut  fill  and  satisfv  the  most  exacting  sense.'' 


97 


CHAPTER   XXII. 


SOUTH-WESTERN  NEW  HAMPSHIRE. 

AMHKKST. —  MlU'ORD      Sl'RINdS.  —  Mil, KURD.  —  MuNT      VERNON.  —  TlIK 
<  'oM'OCH'OOK    VAI.I.KV. —  I'KTKRUORonm. —  ]  )i;i!LIN. MoNADNOCK. — 

KEENE. 

TIFK  hill-country  of  South-western  New  Hampshire  is  a  region  of  pic- 
turesque diversity  of  scenery,  with  bright  lakes,  lofty  highlands,  and 
quiet  villages  of  the  well-known  Xcw-F.ngland  type.  It  is  quickly  and 
easily  accessible  from  ISoston  and  other  large  cities;  and  thousands 
of  refugees  from  the  super-heated  streets  come  hither  every  summer  to  enjoy 
the  clear,  pure  air,  and  to  "take  in  X at ure  at  the  pores."  The  route  across 
the  southern  tier  of  counties,  —  I  lillsborough  and  Cheshire, — is  by  the 
branch  of  the  Lowell  System  of  the  I'.oston  &  Maine  Railroad  running  from 
Nashua,  on  the  Merrimac,  to  Kccne,  on  the  Asluielot  River,  with  subordinate 
branches  to  Peterborough,  in  the  Monadnock  country,  and  Contoocook,  in 
the  western  suburbs  of  Concord.  The  first  important  point,  after  leaving 
Nashua,  is  Amherst,  near  the  pleasant  old  village  that  used  to  be  the 
metropolis  and  shire-town  of  Hillsborough  Count}',  before  the  rise  of 
X'ashua  and  Manchester.  The  first  settlers  were  Massachusetts  veterans  of 
the  Narragansett  War  of  the  year  1675;  alu^  *-ne  pkice  had  more  inhabitants 
and  vastly  more  consequence  before  the  Revolution  than  it  has  now.  In 
later  days,  Horace  Crecley,  the  great  Xew-York  journalist,  was  born  in  a 
farm-house  about  five  miles  from  the  village.  The  "Farmer's  Cabinet"  is 
tl.e  local  newspaper,  published  now  for  eighty-seven  years.  There  are  a 
do/en  or  so  of  summer  boarding-houses  in  the  town;  and  the  drives  along 
the  Souhegan  Valley,  and  among  the  bordering  hills,  abound  in  placid 
beaut}'.  A  mile  and  a  halt  awav,  high  up  on  the  hills,  are  the  Milford 
Springs,  famous  for  more  than  seventy  years  for  their  valuable  curative 
properties,  and  latterly,  under  the  name  of  Poncmah  Water,  much  used  as 
a  table-beverage.  Rheumatism,  dyspepsia,  debility,  and  other  troubles  inci- 
dent to  this  lile  of  pain  are  benetitted  bv  these  flowing  springs,  and  bv  the 
sweet  forest-perfumed  air  of  the  ridue,  which  overlooks  the  Merrimac  Valley 
tor  man}'  leagues. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Amherst,  up  the  fair  valley  of  the  Souhegan.  i>  the 
manufacturing-village  of  Milford,  with  its  pleasant  Common  and  unu>u.iilv 
good  public  buildings,  and  a  surioimd'.ng  country  lich  in  farm-product*. 
Creat  quantities  of  milk  are  sent  dailv  to  I'.o.-ton,  from  this  and  the  other 
town-,  bordering  the  Souheg.iu.  Semi-daily  stages  run  nonh-\\est  to  Mont 
\  enioii,  on  the  Cji1(>hquinaspas>akessananiiu<[U<>'4  River.  .1  beautitui  and  well- 


9s 

cultivated  highland-town,  the  seat  of  the  McCollom  Institute.  Fully  four 
hundred  summer-guests  can  be  cared  for  at  one  time  in  the  village-inns  and 
surrounding  farm-houses.  It  was  proposed  to  name  the  latest  new  hotel 
after  the  stream  which  flows  through  the  town,  but  the  proprietors  concluded 
that  the  cost  for  advertising  would  be  too  great,  and  a  simpler  title  had  to 
suffice  them.  The  views  from  the  high  plateau  of  Mont  Vernon  abound  in 
interest  and  beauty,  for  it  is  a  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  commands 
the  Hillsborough  lowlands  for  many  leagues.  The  burning  of  Boston,  in 
1872,  was  easily  seen  from  this  remote  watch-tower  of  the  hills.  Many 
places  of  interest  are  found  in  the  vicinity,  —  Purgatory,  Joe-English  Hill, 
the  Uncanoonuc  Mountains,  Lake  Babboosic,  Milford  Springs,  the  glens  of 
New  Boston,  and  others;  but  there  is  no  compulsion  to  visit  them,  and 
summer-guests  may  rest  under  the  great  trees,  and  dream  over  the  valley- 
views,  and  inhale  the  bracing  highland  air,  without  reproach. 

Wilton,  a  few  miles  farther  up  the  railway,  is  one  of  the  busiest  of  factory- 
villages,  well-known  also  for  its  cattle-shows  and  its  large  shipments  of  milk. 
The  surrounding  country  abounds  in  farm  boarding-houses,  where  five  dol- 
lars a  week  is  held  as  a  goodly  price  for  accommodation.  The  milder  scenery 
of  the  valley-towns  gives  place  here  to  strong  and  noble  mountain-features, 
in  the  ranges  radiating  from  mighty  Monadnock.  Among  these  rich  and  ex- 
tensive farm-lands,  diversified  by  shadowy  fragments  of  the  forest  primeval, 


Stages  run  down  through  the  hills  to  the  charming  village  of  New  Ips- 
wich ;  and  it  is  but  a  few  miles  to  Lyndeborough,  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
mountain-towns  in  this  region,  with  several  hospitably  inclined  farmers. 

Farther  up  the  line  we  come  to  Greenfield,  with  another  group  of  pen- 
sions, and  the  fine  scenery  of  Crotched  Mountain,  Lyndeborough  Mountain, 
and  half  a  dozen  glimmering  ponds. 

At  Hancock  Junction  we  enter  an  antique  and  conservative  town,  named 
for  the  famous  John  Hancock,  one  of  its  first  proprietors,  and  occupied  for 
generations  by  families  of  farmers.  Here,  and  in  the  neighboring  town  of 
Bennington,  there  are  accommodations  for  several  hundred  summer-visitors, 
in  a  calm  and  restful  agricultural  country,  high  amid  the  hills.  At  the  Junc- 
tion, the  railroad  is  crossed  by  the  railroad  from  Contoocook  to  Peter- 
borough, and  we  may  ascend  the  Contoocook  Valley  southward  for  seven 
miles  to  the  last-named  place,  one  of  the  most  prosperous  manufacturing- 
villages  in  the  State,  and  endowed  with  banks,  newspaper,  hotels,  churches, 
a  public  library,  and  other  metropolitan  luxuries.  Peterborough  was  settled 
by  Scotch-Irish  Presbyterians  a  century  and  a  half  ago,  and  acted  as  a  de- 
fensive outpost  of  Massachusetts  against  the  northern  Indians.  Climbing 
up  from  the  narrow  glen  in  which  the  village  nestles,  you  reach  the  high 
plateau  and  ever-present  hills,  with  many  comfortable  farms  and  summer 
boarding-houses,  and  glorious  views  of  Monadnock  and  its  brethren.  The 
best  of  these  outlooks  may  be  gained  from  the  old  grave-yard  hill  in  the 
centre  of  the  town,  two  hundred  feet  above  the  river.  A  beautiful  river-road 


99 


ULT.I.IN    I'UNU. 


runs  six  miles  from  Peterborough  to  Jaffrey,  the  old-time  Middle-Monadnock 
town,  famous  as  a  summer-resort,  and  commanding,  from  its  quaint  old 
village  high  up  on  the  plateau,  a  royal  view  of  Monadnock.  And  another 
pleasant  road  runs  from  Peterborough  to  Dublin,  the  most  fashionable  sum- 
mer-resort in  all  the  Monadnock  country. 

Returning  to  Hancock  Junction,  we  may  go  northward  by  railway  down 
the  Contoocook  Valley  to  Contoocook  and  Concord,  traversing  the  quiet 
hill-towns  of  Bennington,  Antrim,  Hillsborough,  and  Henniker,  each  with  its 
half-score  of  summer  boarding-houses.  Hillsborough  was  the  birthplace  of 
Franklin  Pierce,  fourteenth  president  of  the  United  States. 

Returning  to  the  main  line  from  Manchester  to  Keene,  after  these  divaga- 
tions along  the  silvery  Contoocook,  we  soon  reach  Harrisville,  whose  chief 
village,  thirteen  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  is  well  known  for  its  manu- 
factures of  woollen  goods  and  flannels.  Four  miles  to  the  southward  is  the 
picturesque  mountain-town  of  Dublin,  which  includes  much  of  gray  old  Mo- 
nadnock, and  has  of  late  'years  become  a  highly  favored  resort  during  the 
season  of  hot  weather.  There  are  many  summer-cottages  here,  pertaining 
mainly  to  Boston  families ;  and  a  good  carriage-road  encircles  the  lake,  and 
affords  many  enchanting  views.  Dublin  Pond  is  one  of  the  loveliest,  clearest 
lakes  ever  born  of  mountain-brooks,  and  affords  capital  bathing  and  sailing, 
with  gently-shelving  beaches  which  abound  in  garnets.  The  village  is  fifteen 
hundred  feet  above  the  sea  (some  say  twenty-six  hundred),  which  exceeds  the 
height  of  Bethlehem.  And  all  the  surrounding  scenery  is  Scottish,  in  its 
pleasant  mingling  of  the  lochs  and  the  highlands.  The  air  is  pure  and  brac- 
ing; the  waters  flow  in  limpid  sweetness  from  cold  springs;  and  the  roads 
wind  away  amid  lines  of  sugar-maples  and  other  fine  trees.  Across  the  lake 
rises  the  noble  peak  of  Monadnock,  Emerson's 


"  Monadnock  is  a  mountain  strong, 
Tall  and  good  my  kind  among; 


and  another  poet's 


"  Monadnock  lifting  from  his  night  of  pines 
His  rosy  forehead  to  the  evening  star." 

You  may  drive  around  into  Jaffrey,  and  up  to  the  Monadnock-Mountain 
House,  high  up  on  the  great  range;  and  thence  a  rugged  path  leads  upward 
over  the  ledges  to  the  summit,  looking  out  on  the  (Jreen  Mountains,  the 
White  Mountains,  the  Franconias,  Wachusett,  the  Berkshire  Hills,  and  all 
the  wide  valleys  intervening. 

"  If  the  gods  had  but  heard  of  the  charming  scenes, 

Away  in  the  distance  below, 
They'd  leave  famed  Olympus,  its  rock  and  ravines, 

And  come  to  Monadnock,   I  know, 
And  Orpheus  (the  charmer)  of  enchanting  lame, 

Would  cause  the  whole  mountain   to  ring, 
And  trees,  rocks,  and  cattle  \vmil. 1  cheer  and  proclaim, 

Monadnuck  of  mountains  i.   Kin:,'! 


From  Hancock  Junction  to  Keene  the  line  affords  many  beautiful  viewy 
over  the  Ashuelot  Valley,  especially  in  the  open  country  about  Marlborough. 

And  so  at  last  the  train  crosses  a  long  viaduct  and  enters  the  "proud 
little  city  of  Keene,"  rich  in  its  variety  of  manufactures  and  in  a  large  coun- 
try-trade. The  charms  of  the  scenery, 

"  By  bosky  dell,  blue  lake,  and  grassy  fell," 

are  so  generally  recognized  that  the  local  inns  have  accommodations  for  five 
hundred  guests.  Stages  run  ten  miles  westward  to  Lake  Spofford,  among 
the  hills  of  Chesterfield;  and  railroads  diverge  north-westward  to  Bellows 
Falls,  and  south-westward  to  South  Vernon,  on  .the  Connecticut;  and  south- 
eastward to  Winchendon,  in  Massachusetts. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


WESTWARD    FROM  CONCORD. 

HOPKINTON. — WARNER. —  BRADFORD  AND  ITS  SPRINOS. —  SUNAPEE  LAKE. 
NEWPORT. —  CLAREMONT. 

ANOTHER  division  of  the  Lowell  System  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Rail- 
road runs  westward  from  Concord  to  the  Sunapee-Lake  country,  and 
across  to  Claremont,  in  the  Connecticut  Valley. 

Three  miles  from  Contoocook,  and  seven  miles  (by  stage)  from 
Concord,  is  the  Perkins  Inn,  in  the  beautiful  old  town  of  Hopkinton,  famous 
for  its  great  trees  and  fair  scenery.  From  Putney  Hill,  a  mile  distant,  you 
may  see  Moosilauke,  Chocorua,  Monadnock,  Kearsarge,  and  other  points  in 
seven  counties. 

Beyond  the  village  of  Contoocook,  whence  a  branch  runs  up  the  Contoo- 
cook Valley  to  Peterborough,  we  soon  reach  Warner,  a  pleasant  old  village, 
under  arching  lines  of  rock-maples,  with  a  long  main  street  following  the 
course  of  Warner  River,  and  lined  with  neat  and  attractive  dwellings,  and 
the  churches  and  public  buildings.  Among  these  pleasant  homes  is  that  of 
Amanda  B.  Harris,  the  author;  and  in  the  outer  environs  we  may  find  the 
summer-homes  of  Senator  William  E.  (/handler,  and  Gov.  N.  (',.  Ordway,  of 
Dakota,  and  Eaton  Orange,  the  estate  of  President  Eaton,  late  United-States 
Commissioner  of  Education.  E/ekiel  Straw  and  Walter  IFarriman,  both 
governors  of  Xew  Hampshire,  were  natives  of  Warner.  Within  easy  driving 
distance  are  Hardy's  white-sulphur  springs,  Point  Lookout,  the  far-viewing 
Bald  Mink,  and  other  interesting  localities,  to  say  nothing  of  Sunapee  Lake 
and  Bradford  Springs.  A  good  road  also  leads  up  on  the  great  Kearsarge 
Mountain  to  within  half  a  mile  of  the  summit. 

Above  Warner,  the  railroad  climbs  along  the  Warner-River  Valley,  past 
several  rural  stations,  and  through  many  a  dee])  forest  and  lonely  neighbor- 
hood of  farm>,  to  Bradford,  a  pleasant  village,  not  far  from  Lovcwell's  and 
Sunapee  Mountains,  and  the  daik  Kearsarge.  Ik-re  is  the  lovely  Bradford 
Pond,  with  its  bold  >hores  and  wooded  islands,  a  glorious  feature  in  the 
landscape.  And  a  few  miles  to  the  >outh-west  we  may  find  the  Bradford 
Mineral  Springs,  frequented  by  invalid  Indian:-,  betore  Boston  was  founded, 
and  for  half  a  century  favored  with  a  summer-hotel,  surrounded  by  rugged 
highlands.  A  few  miles  beyond  Bradford,  through  a  region  of  Tyrolese  sa\- 
agcr.y,  and  up  heavy  grades  cut  through  the  mountains,  and  the  train  nm> 
along  Sunapee  Lake,  ot  which  more  is  >aid  in  our  "  LAKK.S  AND  STREAMS." 
Kearsarge,  Cardigan,  Sunapee  Mountain,  and  other  tall  peaks  are  now 


within  sight,  rising  from  this  picturesque  lake-country,  and  affording  noble 
prospects. 

Xot  far  beyond,  we  come  to  Newport,  the  capital  of  Sullivan  County, 
surrounded  by  many  hills,  and  enriched  by  the  pleasant  glens  and  intervales 
opening  into  the  Sugar-River  Valley.  The  village  extends  down  a  mile-long 
street,  with  its  four  churches  and  town  and  county  buildings,  and  the  offices 
of  the  professional  gentry,  and  the  stores  which  control  a  large  country-trade. 
Favored  by  the  best  of  roads,  leading  through  pleasant  scenery  of  hill  and 
dale  and  lake,  Newport  attracts  several  hundred  summer-guests  every  year, 
and  gives  them  plenty  of  pure  air  and  rural  diversions.  Three  miles  to  the 
southward  are  Unity  Springs,  with  tonic  iron-waters,  and  a  hotel. 

The  route  beyond  Newport  descends  the  rugged  glens  about  Sugar  River 
for  several  miles,  to  the  brisk  manufacturing-village  of  Claremont,  abounding 
in  hills  and  streams,  and  favored  by  wanderers  from  the  cities.  From  Bible 
Hill,  or  from  Flat  Rock,  we  may  overlook  the  Connecticut  Valley  for  many 


a  bright  league,  and  from  (Ire-en  Mountain  a  nobler  view  is  gained.  And  an 
excursion  can  also  be  made  to  Ascutnev,  the  famous  Vermont  peak,  whose 
crest  commands  hundreds  of  miles  of  broken  countrv,  extending  even  to  the 
White  Mountains. 

Outside  of  ('laremont  stands  an  Kpiscopal  church  founded  in  1773  on 
a  domain  given  it  by  King  ( Ic-orge  111.  of  Fngland.  and  .-till  supported  by  its 
royal  glebe-lands. 

Two  miles  beyond  Newport  village  tin.1  railroad  terminate-,  .it  ('laremont 
function,  where  a  connection  j-  made  with  the  <  Yntt.il  Vermont  Railroad, 
midwav  between  llellows  Falls  and  While-River  [unction. 


104 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 


THE   KEARSARGE    COUNTRY. 

A  BIT  OF  THE  MERRIMAC. — THE  ANDOVERS. — MOUNT  KEARSARGE. — THE 
CANAANS. —  MOUNT  CARDIGAN. —  A  GLIMPSE  OF  THE  CONNECTICUT. 

THE  line  of  the  old  Northern  Railroad  (now  a  part  of  the  Lowell  System 
of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad)  follows  a  north-westerly  course  from 
Concord  to  the  Connecticut  Valley,  through  a  region  of  highlands  and 
lakes,  visited  by  thousands  of  summer-idlers  every  season.  For  many 
miles,  it  runs  along  the  pleasant  intervale  of  the  Merrimac,  with  broad  views, 
on  either  side,  of  cultivated  fields  and  white  hamlets.  On  Duston's  Island, 
as  you  cross  the  Contoocook  River,  you  may  see  (close  to  the  train,  on  the 
right)  the  tall  Ama/onian  statue  of  Mrs.  Hannah  Duston,  who  here' killed 
the  Indians  who  had  borne  her  captive  from  burning  Ilaverhill,  and  so 
escaped  to  her  people.  Next  we  pass  through  rich  old  Boscawen,  the  birth- 
place of  Senator  Fessenden,  and  of  Gen.  Dix,  whose  "If  anyone  attempts  to 
haul  down  the  American  flag,  shoot  him  on  the  spot"  is  among  the  watch- 
words of  our  national  history.  Xot  far  from  the  manufacturing-village  of 
Franklin,  farther  up  the  line,  was  the  birthplace  of  Daniel  Webster,  the 
greatest  of  American  orators.  A  branch  line  runs  from  Franklin  up  the 
1'emigewasset  Valley  to  Bristol,  near  the  beautiful  Newfound  Lake  (see 
"LAKES  AND  STREAMS").  Beyond  the  bright  Webster  Lake  and  Last 
Andover,  near  its  beautiful  Highland  Lake,  and  with  many  a  notable  view  of 
Ragged  Mountain  on  the  north,  comes  Andover,  a  quiet  hamlet  with  good 
accommodations,  and  the  attractions  of  Apple  Hill,  Echo  Lake,  the  Salis- 
bury roads,  and  other  vistas  of  grand  scenery.  It  is  two  miles  to  Ragged 
Mountain,  and  five  miles  to  Kearsarge. 

Potter  Place,  the  next  station,  received  its  name  from  a  famous  wi/ard 
and  necromancer  who  used  to  live  near  by.  Stages  run  thence  four  miles 
south  to  the  Winslow  House,  high  up  on  Kearsarge,  and  with  a  bridle-path 
leading  to  the  summit  of  that  famous  peak.  (It  should  be  said  here  that 
there  are  many  people  who  believe  that  the  victorious  war-ship  A't'iirsiirgt 
received  its  name  from  this  mountain,  and  not  from  its  namesake  at  North 
Conway.  Several  polemical  pamphlets  have  been  written  by  the  partisans 
of  the  two  peaks.)  The  climb  to  the  crest  is  not  a  severe  one.  but  it  wrung 
from  Horace  Greeley  the  heartfelt  ejaculation.  "  Thank  God  it  is  no  higher  !  " 
The  view  from  the  top  includes  the  White.  Franconia.  and  Green  Mountains, 
Cardigan,  Croydon.  and  Ascutnev,  the  lakes  of  Sunapee  and  Winnipesau- 
kee,  and  manv  leagues  of  the  Merrimac  Yallcv. 


'OS 

"  Kcarsargc, 
Lifting  his  Titan  forehead  to  the  sun," 

has  been   the  theme  of  several  brilliant  poems,  ever  since    Passaconaway's 
braves  brought  to  the  nuptial  feast 

•'  Steaks  of  the  brown  bear,  fat  and  lar^c, 
From  the  rocky  slopes  of  the  Kearsarge;" 

and  Whittier's  drovers  sani? 


and  Kdna  Dean  Proctor  praised  it  as 

"  The  monarch  of  our  mountain-land." 

And  the  grand  naval  poem  on  a  previous  page  should  be  read  here. 

Stages  also  run  from  Potter  Place  eight  miles  west  to  \e\v  London,  a 
pleasant  old  hill-town,  the  seat  of  the  well-endowed  New-London  Literary 
aud  Scientific  Institute.  It  has  one  or  two  summer-hotels  and  several  board- 
ing-houses, frequented  during  the  season  by  lovers  of  quiet  rural  scenerv. 
On  one  side  of  the  town  lies  the  broad  mirror  of  Sunapee  Lake. 

The  next  station  beyond  Potter  Place  is  West  Anclovcr,  close  under 
Ragged  Mountain,  and  near  the  pleasant  scenery  ot  the  Black-Water  River 
and  Kagle  Pond.  Many  families  spend  their  summer-vacations  here,  riding, 
fishing,  and  otherwise  enjoying  country-lite. 

Farther  on,  the  Northern  Railroad  runs  north-west  through  the  glens  and 
narrow  valleys  of  Danlmry  and  (Jrafton,  passing  half  a  doxen  lonely  little 
stations.  Then  it  reaches  Canaan  station,  at  Last-Canaan  village,  which  ha> 
a  large  country-trade,  and  stage-routes  to  several  secluded  hamlets  among 
the  hills.  Close  by  is  the  Jerusalem-Spring  House,  on  high  ground  and  in 
the  vicinity  of  pleasant  groves,  at  the  toot  ot  Mount  Tug.  The  spring 
produces  an  uncommonly  pure  alkaline  water.  In  the  vicinitv,  you  can  drive 
to  the  Kntield  Shakers'  community,  the  mica-quarry,  the  Pinnacle,  Indian 
River,  and  ,i  score,  of  lakes  and  ponds.  A  road  leads  live  miles  to  the 
northward  to  the  little  Mountain  House  on  the  slope  of  Mount  Cardigan: 
and  alter  a  short  hour's  climb  thence,  over  the  ledges  vou  mav  stand  on 
the  noble  granite  peak  above,  and  look  out  over  half  of  \Y\\  IIamp>hire 
and  Vermont.  1  .e.-s  than  three  miles  from  L.IM  Canaan  i.-  the  v.ri-at  gra^sv 
avenue  <>f  Canaan  Street,  a  full  mile  long,  bordered  on  one  side  by  Crvstal 
Lake  and  overhung  bv  magnificent  elms. 

The  railroad  traverses  the  town.- of  Knfield  (-ec  "  I.AKI-'.S  VNI> 
and  Lebanon,  and  crosso  the  Conner!  icut  R'ncr  to  White-Ri 
where  it  connects  with  the  Central-Vermont  line-  for  M' >nt]H  l 
ton,  anil  Montreal,  and  for  Stowe  "hi  Watorburv.  The  l',i--iim] 
of  the  1'oston  \  Maine  Railroad  run.--  tiience  noithwa'.d  along 
licut  for  main  miles. 


io6 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE   VERMONT   BORDER. 

NORWICH  AND  DARTMOUTH  COLLEGE.  —  FAIRI.EE  AND  ORKORD.  —  THE 
OLD  BRIDGE.  —  THE  Coos  COUNTRY. —  UP  THE  PASSUMPSIC.  —  A 
WESTERN  SCOTLAND.  —  ST.  JOHNSBURY  AND  NEWPORT.  —  JAY  PEAK. 
—  A  RAID  INTO  CANADA. 

THE  Passumpsic  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  about  145 
miles  long,  runs  northward  from  White-River  Junction,  where  it  con- 
nects with  the  Northern-Railroad  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine 
System  from  Concord,  and  with  the  Central- Vermont  Railroad,  coming 
up  the  valley  as  a  part  of  the  througlt  route  from  New  York  to  Quebec,  and 
also  crossing  the  Green  Mountains  to  Montpelier  and  Burlington. 

For  about  a  third  of  the  way,  the  Passumpsic  route  closely  follows  the 
beautiful  valley  of  the  upper  Connecticut  River,  amid  the  rugged  scenery  of 
the  mountains,  the  western  outposts  of  the  White  and'  Franconia  ranges. 
Throughout  this  fifty  miles,  the  river  flashes  along  by  the  side  of  the  track, 
giving  an  unusual  brilliancy  and  vivacity  to  the  scene. 

A  few  minutes'  run  from  White-River  Junction  brings  us  to  the  ancient 
Vermont  village  of  Norwich,  on  a  plain  near  Bloody  Brook,  whose  name 
commemorates  a  battle  fought  here  during  the  days  of  the  French  wars. 
Norwich  University,  the  chief  local  institution  from  1832  until  its  buildings 
burned,  in  1866,  in  its  day  held  high  rank  as  a  military  academy,  and  gradu- 
ated many  distinguished  officers  of  the  American  army.  Just  across  the 
river,  over  a  pleasant-viewing  bridge,  is  the  fine  old  college-town  of  Hanover, 
Oil  a  fair  upland  plain,  amid  beautiful  rural  surroundings.  On  its  broad 
campus,  overshadowed  by  noble  trees,  stand  the  buildings  of  the  famous 
Dartmouth  College,  the  alma  mater  of  Webster,  Choate,  Thadcleus  Stevens, 
George  Ticknor,  Levi  Woodbury,  Salmon  P.  Chase,  and  many  other  famous 
men.  It  was  founded  in  1770,  as  a  school  for  Indian  missionaries.  The 
chapel,  library,  and  other  buildings  are  handsome  modern  structures;  and 
the  art-gallery  and  museums  merit  a  visit. 

Above  Norwich  we  cross  the  bright  little  Ompompanoosuc  River,  flow- 
ing down  from  the  valleys  occupied  by  the  Vermont  Copper  Company,  and 
once  famous  for  its  shipments  of  copperas. 

Oak  Hill  and  Thetford  Hill  crowd  down  close  to  the  Connecticut,  and 
under  their  shadows  the  silvery  rails  are  followed  to  Thetford,  whose  village- 
lies  among  the  hills  a  mile  to  the  westward  of  the  station.  Off  to  the  right 
appear  glimpses  of  Moosilaiike. 

Beyond  the  station  of  XorthThetfordconies  the  station  of   Fairlee  and 


to; 

Orford,  near  the  lake  where  Captain  Morey  built  the  steamboat  Aunt  Sally, 
more  than  seventy  years  ago.  Morey  successfully  ran  a  small  steamer  at 
Fairlee  as  early  as  the  year  1792,  and  Robert  Fulton  came  up  here  and 
studied  its  operation,  years  before  he  built  his  first  steamboat  on  the  Hudson 
River.  Over  this  historic  pond  the  bold  Yosemite  Cliffs  impend;  and 
above  them  towers  the  crest  of  Mount  Fairlee,  commanding  a  charming 
view  of  the  Connecticut  Valley.  The  venerable  hamlet  of  Orford  lies  on 
the  farther  shore  of  the  river,  with  its  mile-long  mall  lined  with  great  trees, 
and  leading  nearly  to  the  famous  view-point  of  the  Seven  Pines.  Among 
the  many  summer-visitors  who  have  found  great  content  here  were  Christine 
Nilsson,  Washington  Irving,  James  T.  Fields,  Elihu  Burritt,  and  John  S. 
C.  Abbott.  Mount  Cuba,  a  few  miles  distant,  commands  a  glorious  view  of 
the  White  and  Franconia  Mountains  ;  and  the  drive  may  be  prolonged  to 
the  picturescp-ie  Baker  I'onds,  and  over  into  the  Moosilauke  country. 


Running  north  from  Fairlee,  the  route  is  crowded  into  the  narrow  pass 
between  Sawyer's  Mountain  and  the  river,  \\ith  S<>apst<me  Hill  on  the  other 
side  of  the  stream.  I'iermont  station  is  near  "The  Old  Bridge,''  celebrated 
in  the  poem  beginning  : 


was  the  daughter  of  the  toll-gatherer  at  the  bridge. 

A  short  run  over  the  intervales  of  Waile'>  River,  with  the  white  house-; 
of  I  Bradford  on  the  left,  leads  to  the  station  ,.f  Bradford,  a  bright  Yermor.t 
village,  a  few  miles  from  Wright's  Mountain.  Farther  on.  \\e  travels  the 


io8 

edges  of  the  famous  Coos  meadows,  with  ancient  Ilaverhill  high  up  on  the 
plateau  beyond  the  Connecticut.  (Ilaverhill  and  Newbury  are  mentioned 
iu  an  earlier  chapter.)  After  passing  Newbury,  very  charming  views  are 
given  over  the  great  Ox-Bow  Meadows,  with  Moosilauke  and  the  alpine 
peaks  of  Sugar  Loaf  and  Black  Mountain  beyond. 

So  we  come  to  Wells  River,  a  hill-girt  hamlet  close  to  the  rushing  Con- 
necticut, at  the  mouth  of  Wells  River,  coming  clown  from  the  great  ponds 
of  Groton.  Here  we  may  change  cars  for  the  summer-resorts  of  the  Fran- 
conia  and  White  Mountains,  or  for  Montpelier  and  Western  Vermont. 

Ryegate,  the  next  town  on  our  northward  route,  was  settled  125  years 
ago,  by  immigrants  from  Lanarkshire.  The  main  body  of  these  Scottish 
pilgrims  was  halted  by  Gen.  Gage,  in  Boston,  and  compelled  to  return  to 
their  own  land,  but  after  the  Revolution  many  of  them  crossed  the  sea 
again,  and  settled  among  these  lonely  glens. 

Beyond  the  lumber-mills  at  Mclndoe's  Falls  we  reach  Barnet,  in  another 
town  populated  by  Scots.  And  so,  whirling  around  Stevens  Hill,  the  route 
leaves  the  Connecticut,  and  begins  to  climb  the  long  valley  to  the  northward, 
crossing  and  recrossing  the  Passumpsic  River,  with  the  high  Waterford 


hills  on  the  east.  The  next  considerable  village  is  -St.  Johnsbury,  the  shire- 
town  of  Caledonia  County,  the  seat  of  the  great  factories  where  the  Fair- 
banks scales  are  made,  and  with  a  famous  art-gallery,  a  large  academy,  and 
other  cultivating  influences.  Here  we  cross  the  great  railway  route  from  the 
White  Mountains  to  Lake  Champlain,  mentioned  in  the  next  chapter. 

Running  northward  up  the  valley,  through  St.  fohnsbury  Centre  and  the 
Lyndons,  we  get  occasional  views  of  Hurke  Mountain,  on  the  right,  and 
the  Crecn  Mountains,  on  the  other  side.  At  West  Burke,  stages  are  in 
waiting  for  Willoughby  Lake,  six  miles  distant,  amid  noble  and  interesting 
mountain-scenery.  The  route  leads  through  a  wilder  region,  and  Jay  Peak 
looms  proudly  in  the  distance.  ISevond  the  league-long  Crystal  Lake, 
overlooked  by  the  forest,  are  the  stations  of  South  Barton  and  liarton 
Landing.  We  arc  now  in  the  St.- Lawrence  Valley;  and  the  line  runs  down 
the  course  of  Barton  River,  pa>t  quiet  little  Coventry,  and  along  the  great 
southern  bay  of  Lake  Memphremagog,  to  Xewpoit,  the  chief  summer-resort 
of  this  region,  with  its  hotels  and  steamboats  and  other  vernal  attractions 

(r-,ee   "  I.AKKS  AND  STKKAMs'M. 


The  ascent  of  Jay  Peak  is  one  of  the  most  arduous  anil  profitable 
mountain-excursions  in  Northern  New  Fngland,  and  may  be  made  from 
\Yestfielcl,  a  dozen  or  more  miles  west  of  Newport,  and  reached  by  a  daily 
stage  in  eleven  miles  from  North  Troy,  on  the  railroad  running  westward 
from  Newport.  From  the  summit  you  may  see  the  vast  White-Mountain 
range,  the  Franconias  and  Moosilauke,  the  shining  levels  of  Lake  Champlain 
and  Lake  Memphrcmagog,  scores  of  leagues  of  the  Green  Mountains,  the 
plains  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  smoke  of  Montreal. 

The  line  crosses  the  lake  at  Newport,  and  follows  its  shores  for  several 
miles,  with  fine  views  over  the  broad  and  beautiful  Memphremagog,  and 
glimpses  of  Owl's  Head  and  other  well-known  mountains. 


Just  after  crossing  the  United-States  frontier,  Stanstead  Junction  is 
reached,  with  its  branch  line  to  Stanstead  Plain  and  I  >crby  Line.  The  route 
lies  across  the  Fastern  Townships,  settled  by  Xew-Kngland  men  a  century 
ago;  and  soon  reaches  the  beautiful  Massawippi  Lake,  nine  miles  long,  and 
abounding  in  fish.  The  course  of  the  Massawippi  River  then  leads  tin-- 
line down  to  Lennoxville,  the  seat  of  Bishops'  College,  on  the  St.  Francis 
River,  and  the  point  of  divergence  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railwav  for  Lake 
Megantic.  A  short  run  farther  brings  the  train  to  Sherbrooke,  the  capital  of 
the  Canadian  county  of  Compton,  at  the  continence  of  the  Magog  and  the 
St.  Francis.  Thence  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  will  lake  us  to  Montreal  or 
(Quebec,  or  the  Otiebec  Central  Railway  to  Quebec. 


110 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 


THE   GREEN    MOUNTAINS. 

LUNENBURG.  —  ST.  JOHNSBURY.  —  DANVILLE  GREEN.  —  WALDEN.  — 
GREENSBOROUOH.  —  THE  GREAT  RAILWAY  BEND. —  THE  LAMOII.LE 
VALLEY.  —  STOWE  AND  MOUNT  MANSFIELD.  —  SHELDON.  —  MAQUAM 
BAY. 

FROM  Fabyan's,  in  the  very  heart  of  the  White  Mountains,  a  half-day's 
excursion  by  rail  through  the  Green  Mountains  and  across  Northern 
Vermont  leads  to  the  shores  of  Lake  Champlain.  The  first  part  of 
this  most  interesting  journey  descends  the  familiar  valley  of  the  Wild 
Ammonoosuc,  and  around  by  Bethlehem  Junction  and  Wing  Road;  and 
beyond  the  great  lumber-mills  of  Whitefield  it  turns  off  from  the  Littleton- 
Lancaster  line,  and  rounds  the  long  Dalton  Mountain.  Then  it  crosses  the 
Connecticut  River,  to  the  beautiful  highland  hamlet  of  Lunenburg,  with  its 
summer  boarding-houses,  and  a  series  of  the  noblest  views  of  the  White 
Mountains.  Passing  along  the  edge  of  the  silver-shining  Miles  Pond,  and  by 
the  drowsy  hamlets  of  Concord,  at  East  St.  Johnsbury  the  Passumpsic  River 
is  met,  and  followed  down  to  the  great  village  of  St.  Johnsbury,  one  of  the 
future  cities  of  Vermont.  Here  the  Passumpsic  Division  is  crossed;  and 
leaving  the  terraced  hills  and  pretty  villas  of  the  scale-making  town,  the  line 
goes  forward  to  Danville  Green,  crossing  a  trestle  seventy-five  feet  high  and 
sever,  hundred  feet  long.  The  last-named  village  is  famous  for  its  vast  and 
magnificent  view  of  the  mountains  of  New  Hampshire;  and,  indeed,  from 
many  points  along  this  line  of  railway  there  are  remarkable  and  inspiring 
prospects  of  the  Presidential  Range,  the  Eranconias,  and  other  great  peaks, 
grouped  in  close  and  serried  ranks.  As  the  train  swings  around  the  long 
horse-shoe  curves,  turning  again  and  again  upon  itself,  this  magnificent  group 
of  mountains  appears  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  or  straight 
ahead,  or  dead  astern.  In  the  nineteen  miles  from  St.  Johnsbury  to  Walden, 
traversed  in  an  hour,  the  line  ascends  eight  hundred  feet.  The  carriage-road 
from  St.  Johnsbury  to  Danville  Green  is  seven  miles  long,  but  the  railroad 
must  go  thirteen  miles,  to  climb  those  noble  heights.  Near  West-Danville 
station  is  the  famous  Toe's  Pond,  abounding  in  black  bass.  At  Walden, 
which  looks  out  on  the  White  Mountains.  Jay  Peak,  and  Mount  Mansfield, 
the  height  of  land  is  reached,  and  the  line  begins  its  long  descent  to  the 
Champlain  Valley,  entering  the  valley  of  the  Lamoille,  and  describing  an 
immense  horse-shoe  curve  of  many  miles,  with  the  track  that  we  are  to 
traverse  long  afterward  seen  far  below  across  the  glen,  and  within  a  mile. 
Greensborough  is  two  miles  from  the  station,  over  the  hills,  and  fifteen 


hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  in  a  country  famous  for  its  grain  and  dairy 
products  and  maple-sugar.  Of  late  years,  it  has  become  a  favorite  summer- 
resort  of  New-Haven  and  Yale-University  people. 

Caspian  Lake,  one  of  the  most  famous  fishing-resorts  in  Vermont,  is  six 
miles  around,  with  many  picturesque  points  and  bays  and  beaches,  and  finely 
wooded  shores.  From  IJarr  Hill,  two  miles  from  the  village,  the  White  and 
Franconia  Mountains  are  seen,  and  the  majestic  panorama  of  the  Green 
Mountains. 

At  Greensborough  liend,  the  line  makes  a  grand  curve  of  seven  miles  to 
gain  one  mile,  like  some  of  the  Pennsylvania  Railroad's  grades  in  crossing 
the  Alleghany  Mountains,  where  it  is  said  that  the  engineers  and  rear  brake- 
men  can  shake  hands  while  swinging  around  the  bends.  The  little  Lamoille 
River  is  followed  through  the  hilly  Hardwicks,  and  past  Wolcott,  with  fine 
views  of  the  huge  Klmore  Mountain  and  Mount  Mansfield  anil  Camel's 
Hum]),  the  last  two  remaining  in  sight  for  many  miles,  and  appearing  in 
constantly  changing  forms.  The  Lamoille  flows  now  in  a  broader  current, 
shimmering  between  banks  overshadowed  by  rich  groves,  and  rising  now 
and  then  into  fertile  hills. 

Semi-daily  stages  run  from  Morrisville  station  eight  miles  south  to 
Stowe,  the  chief  summer-resort  of  the  Green  Mountains,  with  its  great 
Mount-Mansfield  Hotel,  pleasantly  situated  in  a  typical  New-Lnglaml  vil- 
lage. It  is  ten  miles  from  Stowe  to  the  top  of  Mount  Mansfield,  by  a  gooil 
road,  five  miles  over  the  country  roads,  two  and  a  halt  miles  of  climbing  to 
the  Half-way  House,  commanding  a  superb  view;  then  two  and  a  half  miles 
more  up  the  wooded  ridge  to  the  Summit  House:  and  a  clamber  on  foot  of 
a  mile  and  a  half,  to  the  top  of  the  Chin,  three  hundred  feet  higher  than  the 
Xose,  and  commanding  a  vast  and  magnificent  prospect  over  the  wilderness 
and  the  fertile  valleys  of  Vermont,  the  Green-Mountain  range,  the  beautiful 
expanse  of  Lake  Champlain,  the  deep-blue  Adirondack  Mountains  of  New 
York,  the  houses  of  P.urlington.  the  shining  spires  of  Montreal,  and  the 
great  Connecticut  Valley,  overlooked  by  the  White-Mountain  \\;;11. 

There  are  many  other  points  of  interest  about  Stowe.  —  the  Smuggler's 
Notch,  with  its  great  spring  ;  the  Moss-Glen  Falls,  in  a  deep  ravine  of 
Worcester  Mountain  ;  the  far-viewing  Wot  Hill  ;  and  various  mineral 
springs  and  cascades,  enfolded  in  this  great  glen  of  /.<•/  J/( >///.>•  /  Vr/y.  Stowe 
is  also  reached  by  stages  from  Watcrbury,  ten  miles  south,  on  the  Central- 
Vermont  Railroad,  and  Irom  White-River  [unction  to  Montpelier  and  St. 
Albans. 

This  is  the  crowning  beauty  ot 

Strong  with  tin-  stren_rtli  nf  tiiy  verdant  hills, 
Fresh  with  the  freshness  of  mountain-rills, 
Pure  :is  the  l.rcath  i  if  the  frn-r.int  piue. 
<",la,l  with  the  ula.lncss  of  youth  divine." 

Hyde  Park,  settled  by  Connecticut  veterans  of  the  Revolution. irv  War. 
and  now  the  shire-town  of  Lamoille  Countv,  i-  a  bright  and  pK  ,i~a:it  \illaje 
near  the  tree-sprinkled  intervales  of  the  I  amoille,  on  the  railroad. 


Beyond  Johnson,  the  railroad  and  river  rush  through  the  defile  between 
Sterling  Mountain  and  Round  Mountain,  and  down  to  Cambridge  Junction, 
whence  the  Burlington  &  Lamoille  Railroad  diverges  to  Burlington.  A  few 
miles  south  of  Cambridge  is  Underhill,  one  of  the  favorite  summer-resorts 
of  the  Green-Mountain  region.  Our  route  turns  sharply  to  the  northward, 
through  a  wild  and  hilly  country,  passing  Fletcher  and  the  Fail-fields,  and 
soon  reaching  Sheldon,  with  its  mineral  springs,  at  the  crossing  of  the 
Missisquoi- Valley  Railroad,  running  from  St.  Albans  to  Richford. 

The  train  descends  the  Missisquoi  Valley  rapidly,  through  the  villages  of 
Highgate,  and  crosses  the  Central- Vermont  Railroad,  in  Swanton,  whence  we 
m^y  take  trains  west  to  Alburgh  Springs  and  Rouse's  Point,  Paul  Smith's, 
on  St.  Regis  Lake,  and  beyond;  or  south  to  St.  Albans  and  Burlington,  or 
north  to  Montreal.  After  passing  this  station,  our  mountain-conquering  line 
reaches  Maquam,  with  its  summer-hotel  and  steamboat  dock,  and  its  hopes 
of  becoming  an  important  city.  Here  the  steamer  may  be  taken  for  the 
ports  on  Lake  Champlain,  whose  silvery  waters  shine  invitingly  before  the 
little  hamlet,  clotted  by  great  wooded  islands,  and  fringed  with  pleasant 
beaches.  Crossing  the  lake  to  Plattsburgh,  we  may  there  take  the  train  into 
the  famous  Adirondack  Mountains,  towards  Lake  Placid  and  the  Saranac 
Lakes,  ex-President  Cleveland's  favorite  summer-resort.  From  Plattsburgh 
the  boat  runs  up  to  Port  Kent,  the  route  to  the  Ausable  Chasm  ;  and  then 
crosses  to  Burlington,  the  queen-city  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  the  metropo- 
lis of  Vermont.  Steamboats  run  thence  to  Kssex,  Westport,  Port  Henry, 
Ticonderoga,  and  other  landings  in  the  southern  part  of  Lake  Champlain, 
connecting  for  Lake  George  and  Saratoga.  See  "LAKES  AND  STREAMS." 


CHAPTFR    XXVII. 

TWO    CANADA   TOWNS. 

MONTRKAL. —  MOUNT-ROYAL     1'AKK. —   XoTKK      M\MK    AND    THK    ('ATH  FL- 
ORAL.—  THK  ST.  I, . \\VKI.NCK  RIVKK.  —  Mri-.ni.r.  —  THK  I'ITKK  TOWN. 

—  LlTKRATUKK.  —  TlIK    ClU'KCHKS. —  TlIK  ClTAUKI'..  —  MiJM'MOKKNCI 

FALLS. 

rONTKKAL,  the  queen  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  great  city  of 
Canada,  has  been  the  goal  of  thousands  of  American  pilgrimages 
of  all  kinds,  —  mountain-tourists,  wedding-journey  people,  trans-conti- 
nental travellers,  and  afflicted  financiers.  This  bright  and  joyous 
modern  city  stands  on  the  site  of  the  Indian  town  visited  by  Jacques  Cartier 
in  1535,  and  by  Champlain  sixty-eight  years  later,  and  of  the  semi-monastic 
French  colony  founded  in  1642  by  Maisonneuve,  and  captured  successively 
by  the  Iroquois,  Schuyler's  \ew-Vorkers,  and  Montgomery's  American 
army.  The  local  merchants,  by  vast  outlays  of  money  and  ettort,  have 
opened  such  channels  to  the  sea,  that  this  is  now  a  regular  port  for  four- 
thousand-ton  steamships  from  Lngland,  and  the  docks  and  quays  excel  those 
of  any  American  city.  The  great  bridges  that  cross  the  St.  Lawrence  in 
front  of  Montreal  are  familiar  by  report  everywhere. 

Over  the  city  rises  the  great  ridge  of  Mount  Royal,  most  of  which  is 
occupied  by  a  public  park,  traversed  by  roads  and  drive-way,--,  and  adorned 
by  bits  of  forest  and  lawn  and  shrubbery.  The  views  from  its  higher  pans 
include  the  great  city  below,  the  broad  and  winding  river,  the  populous 
French  parishes  in  (Jhamblv  and  La  Prairie,  and  the  conspicuous  mountains 
of  Vermont. 

The  immense  ('hurch  of  \otre  Maine,  fronting  on  the  Place  <!'. \inus, 
with  seats  for  ten  thousand  persons,  has  been  for  nearly  half  a  ccnturv  the 
chief  "  lion ''  of  Montreal,  since  the  old  Yankee  lathers  u>ed  to  bring  iheir 
children  here  to  see  "the  great  I'apist  meeting-house."  Hut  the  new  Cathe- 
dral of  St.  Peter,  on  Mominion  Square,  not  far  from  the  \Yind>or.  n,,\v  sur- 
passes Xotre  Maine,  being  a  copy  of  St.  PeteiV  at  Rome,  smaller  than  the 
original,  but  full  of  mas.Mve  strength.  A  daintier  and  more  beautiful  ediiiee 
is  Christ-Church  Cathedral,  the  Anglican  metropoliticul  ehun  li.  a  pciteit 
specimen  ot  Knglish  (iothir  architecture,  amid  the  patrician  hoii-t-  i.i  St. 
Catherine  Street.  Among  the  other  localities  to  K-  >cen  in  th'X  pleasant 
town  we  must  include  the  Cray  Nunnery,  the  lovely  ih.ipc!  of  the  Xa/.iivth 
Asvlum  for  the  P.liml.  the  buildings  of  Mi  (  iiil  (.~ni\  crsity,  the  m.i^nitit  i  ntly 
frescoed  (iesii  Chinch,  the  modern  citv-hall  <'ii  [,n  .  |uc---< 'artiei  Square,  the 
great  ISousecours  Market,  and  the  Semmarv  ot  St.  Sulpice. 


114 

The  streets  of  this  northern  capital  are  full  of  animation  and  activity, 
and  in  many  respects  resemble  the  thoroughfares  of  an  American  city  of  the 
second  class.  The  great  gray  stone  mercantile  buildings  of  the  wholesale 
districts,  the  imposing  architecture  of  the  banks  and  public  buildings,  the 
plate-glass  windows  and  bright  displays  of  the  retail  quarter,  the  movement 
of  countless  horse-cars,  the  throngs  of  shopping-parties  on  the  sidewalks, 
give  a  brilliant  variety  to  the  scene,  and  furnish  material  for  interested  ob- 
servation. Off  in  another  quarter  of  the  city  the  life  is  all  F"rench,  and  one 
might  fancy  himself  in  a  quiet  little  faubourg  of  Rouen  or  Bordeaux.  The 
island  on  which  Montreal  is  built  covers  nearly  two  hundred  square  miles, 
and  contains  several  bright  French  villages,  named  after  the  saints,  and 
grouped  around  great  convents  or  parish-churches.  Pleasant  excursions  may 
be  made  to  St.  Anne,  Tom  Moore's 

"  We'll  sing  at  St.  Anne's  our  parting  hymn. 
Row,  brothers,  row;  the  stream  runs  fast, 
The  Rapids  are  near,  and  the  daylight's  past;  " 

or  to  the  Iroquois  House,  on  the  Beloeil  Mountains,  a  favorite  summer- 
resort  of  Montrealers ;  or  the  Lachine  Rapids,  where  the  St.  Lawrence 
steamboats  shoot  downward'through  the  boiling  whirlpools  and  rock-fringed 
white  abysses;  or  Hochelaga,  with  its  huge  convent. 


When  the  summer-voyager  is  at  Montreal, -he  should  surely  go  to  Quebec 
also,  and  this  may  be  done  by  a  voyage  of  a  single  night  down  the  beautiful 
St.  Lawrence,  past  scores  of  ancient  French  villages  and  towns.  Or  he  can 
make  the  journey  more  quickly  by  railway,  passing  in  seven  hours  from  one 
citv  to  the  other. 


Quebec  is  a  great  French  commercial  city,  of  seventy-five  thousand  inhab- 
itants, built  in  a  triangle  between  the  St.  Charles  River,  the  St.  Lawrence 
River,  and  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  and  divided  into  the  Upper  Town,  three 
hundred  feet  above  the  river,  and  the  Lower  Town,  close  to  the  level  of  the 
stream. 

On  her  noble  heights,  frowning  down  on  the  mighty  St.  Lawrence,  and 
surrounded  by  a  country  of  great  interest  and  beauty,  stands  the  city  of 
Quebec,  the  Gibraltar  of  America.  Nothing  can  be  more  of  a  contrast  to 
the  cheery  modern  cities  of  the  American  republic;  and  its  charm  for  culti- 
vated travellers  is  perennial.  Within  the  embattled  walls  of  the  Upper 
Town  cannon  and  convents  nestle  side  by  side,  as  in  the  days  of  the  Cru- 
sades, shrines  and  statues  of  the  saints,  high  battlemented  stone  portals, 
terrepleins  overlooked  by  Armstrong  guns,  the  whilom  homes  of  English 
dukes  and  French  marquises,  people  wearing  Xorman  blouses  and  clattering 
down  the  stone  pavement  in  sabots,  steep  house-gables  and  shining  tin  roofs, 
the  melody  of  the  basilica-organ  and  the  Ursuline  bells,  and  evervwhere  the 
crisp,  short-cut  words  of  provincial  French,  the  mart  he-done  of  the  caleche- 


"5 

drivers.  All  these  strange  sights  and  sounds  impress  the  nineteenth-century 
man  like  some  quaint  old  black-letter  volume,  or  a  fragment  of  Baycux 
tapestry,  or  a  chapter  of  "  Ivanhoe." 

And  the  views  from  this  Upper  Town,  whether  from  the  citadel,  or  the 
old  houses  fronting  on  the  ramparts,  or  the  world-renowned  Dufferin  Ter- 
race, are  of  such  grandeur  and  fascination  as  no  other  town  on  the  continent 
can  parallel.  Under  the  great  cliffs  extend  the  narrow  and  crowded  streets 
and  roaring  commerce  of  the  Lower  Town,  fringed  with  piers  and  steam- 
boats, ocean-liners,  and  packet-ships,  and  diversified  by  great  stone  public 
buildings.  The  noble  St.  Lawrence  flows  past,  with  its  vast  commerce  from 
Duluth,  Mackinaw,  Chicago,  and  a  thousand  mid-continental  ports,  making 
of  this  eagle's-nest  of  a  city,  four  hundred  miles  from  the  Atlantic,  an  impos- 
ing sea-port.  Down  its  stream,  the  Isle  of  ( Means  guards  the  harbor  of 
Quebec,  a  French  county  of  seventy  square  miles,  with  many  an  ancient 
church  and  holy  convent,  and  legends  of  centuries  of  Xorman  rule.  Across 
the  northern  channel  glimmers  St.  Anne  de  lieaupre,  the  most  famous  pil- 
grimage-shrine north  of  Mexico ;  and  beyond,  sweeping  around  a  wide  arc  of 
the  horizon,  the  grand  Laurentides  Mountains  lift  their  blue  lines. 

There  are  several  guide-books  to  the  town, —  Le  Moine's  and  others. — 
and  here  is  a  good  place  to  read  Turkman's  brilliant  histories  and  Ilowells's 
"A  Chance  Acquaintance."  P>esidcs  the  good  hotels  in  the  Upper  Town, 
there  are  half  a  do/en  boarding-houses  frequented  by  American  tourists. 
Many  pleasant  hours  may  be  spent  in  the  library  of  the  Quebec  Literary  and 
Historical  Society,  in  Morrin  College,  hospitably  open  to  visitors. 

The  churches  are  attractive  to  strangers,  especially  the  Hasilica,  or  Cathe- 
dral of  the  Catholic  Archdiocese  of  Quebec,  whence  Laval  de  Montmorcncy 
"waved  his  crozier  over  half  a  continent,  from  the  strand  of  Miquelon  to  the 
spring  of  Itasca;  from  the  Gulf  of  the  St.  Lawrence  to  where  the  rosv  sea- 
shells  murmur  in  the  Hay  of  I'ascagoula."  The  Church-of-Kngland  Cathe- 
dral, not  far  away,  abounds  in  mural  monuments,  regimental  standards,  and 
stained  windows.  Other  churches  have  their  attractions, —  Notre  Dame  dcs 
Victoires,  in  the  Lower  Town,  built  in  1690;  Notre  Dame  dcs  Anges  and  its 
monastery,  near  the  General  Hospital;  St.  John,  outside  of  St.  John's  Gate; 
the  Chalmers  Church,  close  to  the  Citadel,  exemplifying  radical  Scottish 
I'resbyterianism ;  the  Hotel-Dion  convent-church,  with  its  rich  old  paintings 
by  French  and  Spanish  masters;  and  the  Ursulines'  chapel,  also  enriched 
by  rare  pictures. 

F.veryonc  goes  to  the  Citadel,  and  follows  a  Canadian  artillerist  around 
that  vast  and  imposing  relic  ot  the  Middle  Ages,  with  its  ravelins  and  case- 
mates and  bomb-proofs  and  batteries.  The  must  interesting  feature  is  the 
magnificent  view  over  the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  it--  white  villages 
and  far-away  mountain-walls. 

Out  on  the  Plains  of  Abraham,  where  Wolfe  defeated  Montc.ilm,  in  17,0. 
and  added  a  vast  empire  to  Kngland,  a  monument  mark.-  the  place  where  the 
victorious  general  died.  Not  far  awav,  the  immense  new  Parliament  build- 
ing of  the  Province  of  Quebec  lifts  its  grav  wails,  visible  for  leagues  o\  er 
the  Lorette  and  Charlcsbourg  plains  and  from  far  down  the  ina;e>tic  river. 


Everyone  rides  out  to  the  Montmorenci  Falls,  a  charming  trip  of  perhaps 
eight  miles  each  way,  leading  through  the  league-long  village  of  Beauport, 
more  French  than  Carcasonne  or  Yvetot,  with  its  roadside  crosses  and  tall 
parish-church,  all  hidden  from  the  modern  world  by  the  vast  ramparts  of 
Quebec.  The  Montmorenci  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  falls  in  the  world, 
cream-tinted,  surrounded  with  spray-enriched  herbage,  and  enshrined  in  a 
niche  of  chocolate-brown  cliffs  opening  off  one  side  of  the  harbor  of  Quebec. 

All  the  environs  of  the  old  chivalric  city — Lorette,  Charlesbourg,  Sillery, 
Cap  Rouge,  etc., —  are  full  of  interest.  As  Howells  says:  "The  whole  land- 
scape looks  just  like  a  dream  of  ( Evangeline.'  " 

Steamboats  leave  Quebec  at  regular  intervals  for  the  ports  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  from  Montreal  in  one  direction  to  Father  Point  in  the  other,  run- 
ning with  frequency  to  the  neighboring  villages  like  Point  Levi,  St.  Pierre, 
Beaulieu,  Pointe  aux  Trembles,  and  St.  Lambert.  And  railways  lead  to 
Montreal  and  Ottawa,  to  New  England,  and  the  Maritime  Provinces.  The 
Quebec  &  Lake  St.  John  Railway  runs  to  the  interesting  Lake  St.  John 
(see  "  LAKES  AND  STREAMS  "). 

The  routes  from  Boston  to  Montreal  lead  over  the  Boston  &  Maine  Rail- 
road and  its  connections,  either  by  the  Central-Vermont  line  across  the 
Green  Mountains  and  through  St.  Albans,  or  by  the  Canadian  Pacific  line 
from  Newport,  on  Lake  Memphremagog. 

The  routes  from  Boston  to  Quebec  lead  over  the  Passumpsic  route  and 
by  Lake  Memphremagog  to  Sherbrooke,  where  we  may  reach  Quebec  by  the 
Grand  Trunk  Railway  or  the  Quebec  Central  Railway. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 


POLAND   SPRING. 

THE  VIEW  FROM  THE  HILLS.— A  P>IT  OF  HISTORY.— PRECIOUS  HEALING 
WATERS. —  THE  ENVIRONS. —  THE  AVENUE  OF  APPROACH. 

FOREMOST  among  the  summer-resorts  of  the  hill-country  of  Maine 
stands  the  famous  Poland-Spring  House,  eight  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  sea,  on  a  breezy  plateau  which  looks  out  on  the  Ossipee 
Range  and  the  White  Mountains,  and  across  leagues  of  lowlands,  amid 
which  glimmers  many  a  silver  lakelet.  Mount  Kiarsarge  is  also  visible, 
with  its  hotel;  and  the  long  levels  of  Sebago  Lake;  and  the  tall  spires  of 
Lewiston.  The  medicinal  virtues  of  the  Poland  Spring  were  known  to  the 
Indians,  but  their  matter-of-fact  successors  were  too  busy  in  conquering  the 
soil  and  establishing  their  homes  to  regard  this  well-spring  of  health,  and 
it  remained  practically  unknown  until  1859,  when  several  wonderful  cures 
were  wrought  by  its  instrumentality.  Then  began  the  public  development 
of  the  property,  which  has  gone  forward  without  check,  until  now  five 
hundred  guests  may  often  be  found  here  at  one  time,  and  the  export  of  the 
water  amounts  to  nearly  four  hundred  thousand  gallons  a  year.  The  water 
issues  from  a  fissure-vein  in  the  gneiss  and  mica-schist  rocks,  near  the  sur- 
face of  the  hill,  and  is  of  an  alkaline  nature,  an  active  remedial  agent  in 
cases  of  rheumatism  and  rheumatic  gout,  dyspepsia  and  indigestion,  gravel 
and  diabetes,  and  other  kindred  ills. 

Visitors  to  the  spring  find  pleasure  in  boating  on  the  lakes,  a  mile  or  so 
from  the  hotel,  and  in  riding  about  the  picturesque  and  diversified  country, 
to  the  Shaker  village  at  New  Gloucester,  to  Lewiston  and  Auburn,  and  over 
the  Raymond  hills.  There  is  refreshment  and  invigoration  in  the  cool 
breezes  of  this  hill-top,  coming  from  the  ocean,  not  many  miles  away  to  the 
southward,  or  from  the  gorges  of  the  White  Mountains,  over  the  green  low- 
lands. All  summer  long,  the  frequenters  of  the  great  hotel  enjoy  many 
forms  of  social  relaxation  and  amusement,  to  make  the  golden  hours  fly  fast. 
Poland  Spring  is  reached  by  through  parlor-cars  on  the  ISoston  A:  Maine 
to  Portland,  thence  -,'ia  the  Maine  Central  or  drand  Trunk  Railroad  to 
Danville  Junction,  from  whose  remarkably  pretty  station  stages  run  to  the 
hotel,  a  distance  of  about  live  miles,  over  a  picturesque  and  much-ascending 
road.  The  running-time  from  Duston  to  the  hotel  is  live  hours. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

THE    HIGHLANDS   OF   MAINE. 

FRYEBURG.  —  A  BIT  FROM  HOWELLS.  —  MOUNT  PLEASANT.  —  LOVELY 
OLD  BETHEL.  —  THE  GRAFTON  NOTCH.  —  PARIS  HILL.  —  MOUNT 
KATAHDIN. 

ONE  of  the  loveliest  villages  in  all  New  England  is  Fryeburg,  standing 
in  the  bend  of  the  Saco  River,  a  few  miles  below  North  Convvay. 
Here  Howells  laid  the  scene  of  "  A  Modern  Instance,"  and  he  thus 
pictures  the  place  :  — 

"  The  village  stood  on  a  wide  plain,  and  round  it  rose  the  mountains. 
They  were  green  to  their  tops  in  summer,  and,  in  winter,  white  through  their 
serried  pines  and  drifting  mists,  but  at  every  season  serious  and  beautiful, 
furrowed  with  hollow  shadows  and  taking  the  light  on  masses  and  stretches 
of  iron-gray  crag.  The  river  swam  through  the  plain  in  long  curves,  and 
slipped  away  at  last  through  an  unseen  pass  to  the  southward,  tracing  a 
score  of  miles  in  its  course  over  a  space  that  measured  but  three  or  four." 

The  conservative  old  village  has  a  goodly  academy,  and  a  broad  street 
between  overarching  trees  and  old  colonial  mansions.  All  around  sweep 
the  lovely  intervales  of  the  Saco,  overlooked  by  majestic  mountain-forms. 
And  here  you  may  visit  Lovewell's  Pond,  "  more  deeply  dyed  with  tradition 
than  any  other  body  of  water  in  New  England  ;  "  or  the  huge  granite 
bowlder  of  Jockey  Cap,  near  the  pond  ;  or  Pine  Hill,  with  its  famous  views  ; 
or  the  Northern  New-England  Chautauqua  Union  Camp-grounds,  two  miles 
away;  Chatham,  and  the  Kezar  Ponds;  and  many  another  interesting  point 
in  this  part  of  Western  Maine. 

Mount  Pleasant  lies  ten  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Fryeburg,  forming  a  long 
rampart-like  ridge  which  rises  out  of  the  levels  of  the  Sebago-Lake  country. 
It  is  a  very  interesting  mountain  to  visit,  on  account  of  its  isolation  ;  and 
commands  a  noble  outlook  over  the  White  Mountains  on  one  side,  and  the 
blue  bosom  of  Sebago  on  the  other,  under  Portland's  spires.  A  road  two 
miles  long  leads  from  the  plain  to  the  summit,  where  there  is  a  commodious 
hotel.  Ten  miles  from  the  mountain  is  the  great  village  of  Bridgton,  the 
metropolis  of  this  beautiful  lake-country. 

Fryeburg  may  be  reached  by  the  Maine  Central  Railroad;  from  North 
Comvay  or  from  Portland. 

Thirty-five  miles  north  of  Fryeburg,  across  the  rugged  and  interesting 
towns  of  Lovell  and  Albany,  is  the  olden  summer-resort  of  Bethel,  which 
may  be  visited  by  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway,  from  Portland  or  from  Grove- 
ton,  or  from  Gorham,  eight  miles  north  of  the  Glen  House. 


"9 

Bethel  has  not  developed  as  a  summer-resort  with  the  rapidity  that  has 
characterized  the  other  mountain-villages,  and  this  is  probably  clue  to  its 
considerable  distance  from  Boston  and  other  cities,  and  the  circuitousness 
of  the  route.  But  even  now  it  has  a  dozen  or  more  boarding-houses;  and 
many  hundreds  of  vacation-tourists  come  hither  every  season. 

It  is  an  academy-town,  abounding  in  churches  and  antique  houses,  and 
rising  on  a  gentle  eminence  around  which  the  rich  and  fertile  intervales  of 
the  Androscoggin  spread  out  their  fields  of  pastoral  beauty.  The  valley  is 
more  open  than  that  of  Conway,  and  the  surrounding  hills,  with  their  bare 
tops  and  cultivated  sides,  are  less  frowning  and  savage  than  those  that 
enwall  the  Saco.  The  chief  feature  in  the  view  from  these  hills,  and  from 
the  village  itself,  is  the  great  cluster  of  the  White  Mountains,  looming  at  the 
apparent  head  of  the  Androscoggin  Valley.  Hence,  also,  we  may  visit  the 
Albany  Basins,  the  glens  cf  Gileacl,  the  Pleasant-River  Valley,  and  Rumford 
Falls  ;  and  stages  run  to  the  Grafton  Notch,  Lake  Umbagog,  and  Dixville 
Notch.  The  finest  scenery  of  the  Grafton  Notch  is  between  Speckled 
Mountain  and  the  Bear-River  White-Cap,  in  a  lonely  region,  seldom  visited 
by  travellers,  but  filled  with  the  charms  of  Nature. 

Down  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  are  the  hill-country  hamlets  of  Locke's 
Mills  and  Bryant's  Pond,  where  people  go  for  fishing  and  for  picturesque 
highland  prospects.  Norway  nestles  down  near  the  long  and  beautiful 
Pennessewassee  Lake;  and  from  Pike's  Hill  or  Singe-Poll  the  White 
Mountains  may  be  seen.  The  dignified  old  capital  of  Oxford  County,  Paris 
Hill,  crowns  the  highlands  two  miles  or  so  from  the  South-Paris  station, 
and  near  Mount  Mica,  famous  for  beryls,  tourmalines,  garnets,  rose-quartz, 
and  other  gems. 

The  secluded  hamlet  of  Phillips,  at  the  end  of  the  Sandy-River  Railroad 
from  Farmington  (reached  by  the  Maine-Central  line  from  Portland),  affords 
several  highly  interesting  mountain-excursions.  The  easiest  of  these  lends 
to  the  summit  of  Mount  Blue,  in  five  miles,  and  provides  for  compensation 
an  unusual  prospect  of  the  White  Mountains,  Mount  Saddleback  and  Mount 
Bigelow,  and  a  vast  expanse  of  the  distant  sea.  The  path  is  less  than  a  mile 
long,  and  the  top  is  clear.  Eight  miles  from  Phillips,  and  beyond  Madrid,  is 
the  bare  crest  of  the  great  Saddleback  Mountain,  rising  from  a  long  and  lofty 
ridge.  The  unrolled  map  of  Western  Maine,  as  seen  from  this  lone  watch- 
tower,  is  embossed  by  many  a  well-known  forest-peak,  and  lighted  up  by  the 
sheen  of  the  Rangeley  Lakes.  The  famous  Mount  A/iscoos,  in  the  heart  of 
the  Rangeley  country,  may  be  ascended  from  A/i>coos  Falls,  on  the  Magallo- 
way,  or  (in  five  miles)  from  the 'larger  Richardson  Pond,  and  looks  out  over 
the  network  of  lakes  and  streams  below,  with  Magalloway  and  other  settle- 
ments, and  the  White  Mountains.  The  top  is  of  white  granite  blocks, 
imbedded  in  acres  of  blueberries  and  white  cranberries.  All  thi.-  region, 
for  many  leagues,  is  prolific  in  woodland  charms,  and  affords  the  best  of 
fishing  and  hunting.  We  should  never  have  done,  it  we  unloldcd  the  mount- 
ain charms  of  Andover ;  the  ascent  of  Mount  Bigelow  from  Flagstaff,  beyond 
Dead  River  and  the  Seven  Ponds;  the  lonelv  journev  to  Mount  Abraham, 
towering  over  Kingticld;  or  the  wilderness-bound  peak  of  (ioo.-~e-F.ye. 


The.  royal  mountain  of  Maine,  Mount  Katahdin,  is  so  remote  in  the 
wilderness  that  it  is  less  visited,  even  by  New-Englanders,  than  Pike's  Peak 
or  Ben  Lomond.  There  are  four  routes  from  Bangor  to  Katahdin  :  (i)  by 
rail  to  Mattawamkeag,  and  thence  by  rough  roads  twenty-four  miles  to 
Fowler's,  and  twenty-four  miles  by  canoes  and  carries  to  the  Aboljackannegas 
stream,  whence  a  trail  of  nine  miles  leads  to  the  summit ;  (2)  by  rail  from 
Bangor  to  Milo,  thirty-two  miles  by  rough  roads  through  Brownville  to 
Middle  Joe  Merry  Lake,  twenty  miles  by  canoe  to  the  Aboljackarmegas,  and 
nine  miles  by  trail ;  (3)  from  the  head  of  Moosehead  Lake,  two  and  one- 
half  miles  by  road,  and  fifty-three  miles  by  the  Penobscot  River,  to  Aboljack- 
armegas ;  or  (4)  from  Bangor  by  rail  to  Mattawamkeag,  twenty-four  miles 
by  stage  to  Sherman,  whence  thirty-three  miles  of  rugged  roads  lead  into 
the  great  Katahdin  Basin,  on  the  most  picturesque  side  of  the  mountain,  and 
near  the  beautiful  Katahdin  Lake.  All  these  routes  are  minutely  described 
by  Prof.  Charles  E.  Hamlin,  in  twenty-five  pages  of  "Appalachia"  for 
December,  iSSi  (Vol.  II.,  No.  IV.)  ;  but  not  more  than  fifty  persons  a  year 
visit  this  lone  peak,  which  Theodore  Winthrop  pronounced  "  the  best 
mountain  in  the  wildest  wild  to  be  had  on  this  side  the  continent,"  and 
overlooking  hundreds  of  leagues  of  almost  unbroken  forest.  It  is  not  an 
excursion  virginibus  pnerisqiie. 

There  arc  many  other  noble  mountains  in  the  old  Pine-Tree  State,  but 
they  are  not  yet  included  in  the  domains  of  summer-tours,  and  need  not  be 
described  here.  Of  these  are  the  tall  highlands  among  the  northern  lakes ; 
the  unvisited  ranges  about  Moosehead  ;  the  eastern  outworks  of  the  White 
Mountains;  and  the  untrodden  peaks  along  the  Canadian  frontier.  Here 
are  the  cradles  of  the  great  rivers,  which  enrich  the  populous  tide-water 
plains,  winding  down  from  their  northern  network  of  lakes,  shining  under 
the  dark-green  shadows  of  bear-haunted  sierras. 

"  Rivers  of  surpassing  beauty 

From  thy  hemlock  woodlands  flow,  — 
Androscoggin  and  Penobscot, 

Saco,  chilled  by  northern  snow; 
These  from  many  a  lowly  valley 

Thick  by  pine-trees  shadowed  o'er, 
Sparkling  from  their  ice-cold  tributes 

To  the  surges  of  thy  shore." 


ALTITUDES    OF    MOUNTAINS 


IN    NORTHERN    NEW    ENGLAND. 


The  heights  of  the  chief  summits  are  taken  from  Prof.  E.  C.  Pickering's 
monograph  in  "Appalachia"  (Vol.  IV.,  No.  IV.).  Most  of  the  others  arc 
from  the  "Geology  of  New  Hampshire." 


Abraham  (Me.),  3,387. 

Carter  Dome,  4,856. 

Iron,  2,736. 

Adams,  5,819. 

Cherry,  3,600. 

Israel,  2,880. 

Agassi?,  2,401. 

Chocorna,  3,508. 

Jackson,  4,076. 

Anderson,  3,748. 

Clay,  5,554. 

Jefferson,  5,736. 

Ascutney  (Vt.),  3,163. 

Cleveland,  2,442.                              Kancamagus,  3,774. 

Attitash,  2,985. 

Clinton,  4,331.                                 Kearsarge,  2,943. 

Aziscoos,  3,150. 

Copple  Crown,  2,100.                       Kiarsargc,  3,270. 

Bald  (Shelburnc),  3,752. 

Crawford,  3,130.                              Killington  (Vt.),  4 

,221, 

Bald  (Rangeley),  2,500. 

Crescent,  3,322. 

Kineo  (Me.),  1,95 

3. 

Baldcnp,  2,952. 

Croydon,  2,789. 

Kinneo,  3,427. 

Baklface,  3,608. 

Cuba,  2,927. 

Kinsman,  4,377. 

Ball,  2,233. 

Cushman,  3,326. 

Lafayette,  5,269. 

Bartlett,  2,650. 

Dalton,  2,181. 

Langdon,  2,439. 

Bear,  3,271. 

Dartmouth,  3,768. 

Liberty,  4.472. 

Bear  Peak,  2,807. 

Deception,  3,722. 

Lincoln,  5,098. 

Belknap,  2,394. 

Deer,  3,500. 

Lowell,  3,765. 

Black  (Beaton),  3,571. 

Double  Head,  3,072. 

Lynn,  2,735. 

B'»e,  4,533- 

Dustan,  2,526. 

Madison,  5,381. 

Blue  (Me.),  3,200. 

Eastman,  3,559. 

Mansfield  (Vt.),  4 

389. 

Blue  (Strafford),  1,151. 

Field,  4,355. 

Marcy  (N.V.),  5,3 

(4- 

Blueberry,  2,800. 

Flume,  4,340. 

Middle,  1,500. 

Bond,  4,709. 

Forist,  1,950. 

Mill,  2,485. 

Boon's  Spur,  5,529. 

Franklin,  4,923. 

Mist,  2,243. 

Bosebuck,  3,200. 

Gartield,  4,520. 

Mitten,  3,1  18. 

Bray  Hill,  1,633. 

Giant's  Stairs,  3,512. 

Moat  (North   ,  5,217. 

Burnt-Meadow,  2,000. 

Goose-Eye,  3,200. 

Monadnoi-k,  3,n",9. 

Camel's  Hump  (Vt.),  4,077.         Green's  Cliff,  :',97J-                           Monroe,  5,396. 

Camel's  Rum]),  3,711.                     Greylock  (Mass.),  3,505.               Moosilauke.  4,810. 

Cannon,  4,107.                                     Gunstock,  2,394.                                 Moriah,  4,065. 

Cape  Horn,  2,735. 

Guyot,  4,589. 

Nancy.   ;..(4. 

Cardigan,  3,156. 

Hale,  4.102.                                           North  'Twin.  4.7?; 

Carmel,  3,711. 

Ilanrock,  4,434.                                  Osceola,  4,352. 

Carr,  3,652. 

Haystack,  4,520.                             Owl's  Head,  3,270 

Carrigain.  4,701.                                 Hitrhcork.    ;.'  ..   .                                1'ack  M.iuadnock, 

,.289. 

Carter,  4,650.                                     Huiitin-km,  3,731.                           I'.irker,  3,015. 

122 


Passaconaway,  4,116. 

Paugus,  3,248. 

Pemigewasset,  2,561. 

Pico  (Vt.),  3,935. 

Piermont,  2,167. 

Pilot,  4,186. 

Pleasant  (Me.),  2,ot8. 

Pleasant,  4,781. 

Pliny,  3,651. 

Prospect  (Plymouth),  2,072. 

Randolph,  3,043. 

Red  Hill,  2,03?. 

Red  Ridge,  2,787. 

Resolution,  3,436. 

Royce,  3,219. 

Sable,  3,377. 


Saddleback,  4,000. 
Sandwich  Dome,  3,999. 
Scar  Ridge,  3,816. 
Sentinel,  2,032. 
Shaw  (Ossipee),  2,956. 
Shrewsbury  (Vt.),  3,838 
Silver  Spring,  3,001. 
Skylight  (N.Y.),  4,890. 
South  Twin,  4,922. 
Squaw  (Me.),  3,262. 
Starr  King,  3,925. 
Stinson,  2,707. 
Sugar  Loaf,  2,565. 
Sunapee,  2,683. 
Table,  2,953. 
Tecumseh,  4,008. 


Temple,  1,755. 
Tin,  1,650. 
Tom,  4,078. 
Tremont,  3,399. 
Tripyramid,  4,189. 
Uncanoonuc,  1,333. 
Wachusett  (Mass.),  2,01? 
Washington,  6,293. 
Waternomee,  4,096. 
Webster,  3,930. 
Welch,  3,500. 
Whiteface,  4,057. 
Whiteface  (N.Y.),  4,872 
Wild-Cat,  4,428. 
Willard,  2,570. 
Willey,  4,313. 


ALTITUDES    OF    VILLAGES. 


Anmonoosuc,  2,668. 

Fabyan's,  1,571. 

Littleton,  817. 

Andover,  628. 

Flume  House,  1,431. 

Newbury,  436. 

Bartlett,  £60. 

Franconia,  921. 

North  Conway,  516. 

Hcmis,  995. 

Fryeburg,  420. 

Peterborough,  744. 

Bethlehem,  1,450. 

Glen  House,  1,632. 

Plymouth,  473. 

Bradford,  679. 

Glen  Station,  529. 

Rutland  (Mass.),  1,200. 

Campion,  594. 

Gorham,  812. 

Sandwich,  648. 

Canaan,  956. 

Hanover,  545. 

Shelburne,  723. 

Centre  Harbor,  553. 

Hamsville,  1,334. 

Stowe  (Vt.),  720. 

Colebrook,  1,026. 

Intervale,  549. 

Warren,  736. 

Concord,  252. 

Jackson,  759. 

Waterville,  1,553. 

Conway  Corner,  466. 

Keene,  479. 

West  Ossipee,  428. 

Crawford's,  1,899. 

Lancaster,  870. 

Whitefield,  931. 

ALTITUDES    OF    LAKES. 


Asquam,  540. 
Connecticut,  1,619. 
Echo  (Franconia),  1,926. 
Moosehqad,  1,023, 


Newfound,  597. 
Seba-o,  263. 
Spofforcl,  738. 
Sunapee,  1,100. 


Umbagog,  1,256. 
Winnipesaukee,  496-502. 


123 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

Agassiz  Basins   ....  83 

Agassiz,  Mount  ....  57 

Albany 41 

Allard's  Hill 19 

Alton  Bay 15 

Amherst 95 

Amherst,  N.H 97 

Ammonoosuc  53 

Ammonoosuc  Lake       .     .  47 

Among  the  Clouds  53 

Andover 104 

Androscoggin      ....  38 

Apple  Hill 104 

Arethusa  Falls    ....  48 

Artists'  Falls 22 

Ascutney 103 

Ashland 76 

Asiiuamchumauke    .      .      .  86  •  Carter  Notch 

Cascade  I'.rook    . 

Baker  River So     Caspian  Lake      . 

Barnet 108     Catamount  Hill  . 

Barrllill i  n  |  Cathedral  Ledge 

Barre 94     Cathedral  Woods 

I  artlett 40     Centre  Harbor     . 

1  arton iuS     Champlain,  Lake 


Lth 


Si,  87 

-M.  57 


124 


Garnet  Pool    .... 
Georgianna  Falls 
Giant's  Grave 
Giant's  Stairs 

PAGE 

.     35     Keene    
.     68     Kiarsarge,  Mount    . 
.     50     Kiarsarge  Village    .     . 

PAGE 

99,  101 
.     26 

.     28 

Morrisville     .... 
Mount-Crawford  House 
Mount-Pleasant  House 
Mount  Washington 

Nancy's  Brook   .     .     . 
Nashua      
New  Boston  .... 

PAGE 
.    Ill 
•      42 
•      52 

•     S3 

•     42 

.     76 
.     98 

.     46     Kimball  Hill  . 

c8 

Glen-Ellis  Falls  .     .     . 
Glen  House    33,  29,  31 
Glen  Station  .... 
Goodrich  Falls     . 
Gorham      .     .      38,  69 
Goshen       
Grafton  Notch     .     .     . 

.     35     King's  Ravine    .     .     . 
.  38,  53     Kinsman,  Mount     .     . 
29,40 
30     Laconia      
,  71,  73     Lamoille  Valley 
.     96     Lancaster  ....  72 

•     7° 
.     61 

.     76 
.   no 
.  91.  94 

Newbury    .... 
Newburyport       .     .     . 
Newfound  Lake  . 
New  Ipswich 

38,  108 

•     J3 
3o,  104 
.     08 

Great  Gulf     .... 

.     37     Lead-Mine  Bridge  .     . 

•     39 
•  105 
•     73 
.  109 
.     68 
61,  89 
,58,60 
41,  83 
•     S3 

New  London  105 
Newport     ....     103,  108 
Nissitisset  Hills  ....     94 
Northampton       ....     95 
North  Conway    .      19,17,118 
Northern  Peaks  .     .     .     .     71 
Northumberland      ...     73 
North  Woodstock 
66,  68,  83,  87 

Greenfield       .... 
Green  Hills    .     .     .  iS 
Greensborough  Bend 

.     98     Lemington  Spring   .     . 
,  19,  22     Lennoxville    .... 
.   no     Liberty,  Mount  . 

Groveton    ....  73 
Hadley       .... 

>  39>  91     Littleton     .     .      89,  61 
Livermore 
95,  96     Loon-Pond  Mountain 

118 

Norwich     

Harrisville 
Hart's  Location 

Notch,  The     .... 

.     42  :  Lower  Bartlett    .     . 

28,29 
72,  no 

.     98 

Oakdalc     
Oakes's  Gulf 

•     93 

Haverhill  .... 
Hayes,  Mount    .     . 
Haystacks,  The 
Henniker   .... 

88,  1  08     Lyndeborough     . 

Orford  . 

•     66 
.  100  '  Madison     ....  17,  18,  21 
36     Mad  River                     .    «T    K^ 

Orleans,  Isle  of  .     . 
Osceola,  Mount  .     .     . 

•   "5 
.     84 

Hillsborough 
Holyoke,  Mount 
Hopkinton 
Humphrey's  I^edge 
Hyde  Park     .     .     . 

.  100     Manchester    .     .     . 
96,  94     Mansfield,  Mount    . 
.   102  j  Maplewood     .     .     . 
25     Maquam  Bay 

.     76 
•     57 

.     112 

Ox-Bow  Meadows  . 

Paris  Hill  
Parker's  Cliff       .      .     . 
Passumpsic  Valley  . 

.     89 

.    119 
•     83 
.   1  06 

Massawippi,  Lake  . 
20     Medford 

.     I09 

Pemigewasset,  Mount 
Pemigewasset  River     . 

Pemigewasset  Valley   . 

.     68 
66,  Si 
.     Si 

Ipswich      .... 

.     1  08 

Iron  Mountain    . 
Isolation,  Mount 
Israel's  River 

.     31      Meredith    .... 
42     Middle  Mountain     . 
(>-),  72     Milan     
Mill  I'.rook 

.        76 
22 
-        33 

8^ 

Pepperell   
Pequawket  House   . 
Peterborough       .     .      . 

•     94 
•     29 
.     98 

•     97 

Pilot-Hill  Basin  .     .     . 

.     83 

Jackson  Falls 

Jacob's  Ladder    .      . 

23 

.     100 

Pine  Hill    

1  8,  tii 

Jaffrey  
lav  Peak 

.   100     Monadnock    . 

Pinkham  Notch  .     .     . 

Jefierson  Highlands      .      .     70     Montalban  Ridge     . 
Jefferson  Hill       .      .  60,  39,  52     Montebello      .     .     . 
Jerusalem  Spring      .      .      .    105      Montmnrenci  Falls 
Jockey  Cap     .                  .          nR      Muntn-al    . 

•      4- 

.     88 
.    116 

Plattsburg       .... 
Pleasant.  Mount       . 
Plymouth   ....  79 
Poland  Spring 
Pollard's     
Poncmah  Springs     .      . 
Pool,  The  

118,49 
6S,  76 

•   "7 
.     S3 
•      97 
.     68 

Katahdin.  Mount     . 
Kearsarue,  Mount   . 

Mont  Venion       .      . 
.    119      Moosilauke      .      .      . 
104,  IM:;     Moriah,  Mount  . 

97.  9s 
86,  8.? 
.     38 

125 


Portsmouth    .     .    . 

PAGE 
•       •       '4 

Snow  Arch      .     .     . 

I'ACE 

•     37 

Walker's  Pond     .      .      .     18 
Warner 

iGE 
26 
1O2 

86 
18 
53 
91 
83 
92 
92 
46 
76 
108 
86 
3° 

!           , 

108 
82 
92 
1  : 
7l 
52 
44 
18 

35 
,46 
,48 
,  44 
108 
98 

15 
83 
89 
S3 

Potter's  Farm      .     . 
Powdcrhouse  Hill    . 

.     .     18 
.     .     88 

South  Conway     . 
Starr  King,  Mount 
Stowe    . 

70,  6y 

Warren  

Washington  Bowlder    . 
Washington,  Mount      .     . 
Waterford       

Profile  House 
Profile  Lake 

.     .     62 
6c 

Strawberry  Hill  .     . 

•     57 

Waterville 

Profile,  The    .     .     . 

.     62 

Sugar  Hill 

6  1    89 

Way  land 

•    72,  80 

Wayside  Inn 

Pulaski,  Mount  .     . 

.     .     88 

Suuapee  Lake     . 
Sunset  Hill     . 

Webster,  Mount  .  .  . 
Weirs 

Surprise,  Mount 

.   3s 

Wells  River  .  .  .  8y, 

Randolph  Hill     .     . 

•    37.  71 

Swanton     .... 
Swasey's  Farm     . 

.    58 
84 

Wentworth  Hall  .  .  . 
West  Andover  .... 
West  Burke  .... 

Rogers  Farm 

•     •     33 

.     .     86 

Thetford     .... 

Weston  .... 

Thorn  Hill      .     .     . 
Thorn  Mountain 

.    26 

•     31 
.     82 

West  Ossipee  .... 
Whitefield  ..... 

Rutland 

108 

White-Mountain  House    . 
White-Mountain  Notch     . 
White-Mountain  Spring    . 
Wildcat,  Mount        .     .     . 
Willard,  Mount    .       47,  44 
Willey  House      ...    44 
Willey.  Mount    ...    48 
Willnughby,  Lake   .      .      . 
Wilton              .                .     . 

4.6 

8-3 

Tilton    

•     76 

St.  Anne    .... 
St.  Anne  de  I'eaupre 
St.  Johnsbury 

.  .  114 
.  .  us 

108,  no 

Tom,  Mount  . 
Tuckermnn's  Ravine 
Twin  Mountains 

Umbagog,  Lake 

48,46 
36.  33 
52 

•     74 

Sanborn's  .... 
Sandwich  Dome 
Sawyer's  River   .     . 
Shelburne  .... 

.     .     82 
.     84 
•     •     42 

•     •     39 

Upper-Coos  Railroad 

Wi,  l,,,^ir    M,,iint 

•     •     73 

Winnipcsaukee,  Lake  . 
Wolfe-borough  .  .  .  . 
Woodstock  .  .  .  . 
Woodsville  
Wyatt  Hill  .  .  . 

Sherbrooke 

.      .   109     Wake-field        .      .     . 
.      17      Waldcn       . 

15 

Smuggler's  Notch    . 

.   1  1  r  i  \Valtham    .... 

.       .      y2 

HERE  AND  THERE  IN  NEW  ENGLAND 
AND  CANADA. 


LAKES  AND  STREAMS. 


M.    F.    SWEETSKR. 


A'  O  /-'  US  /•-'  I.  V    I LLL  ~S  TK  A  T F.  J~>. 


I'ASSKNC.K.U    •  )KI)ARTMI-;X  r    ISosrox   ^    MAINK    RAII.RDAD. 
i  889. 


COPYRIGHT, 

1889. 
DANA     I      FLANDERS 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

I.    LAKKWARD  ROUTES 


II.     LAKK  WINNII-KSAUKKK 16 

The  Xamc.— Old-Time  Indian  Memones.  —  A  Bundle  of  Facts.  —  The 
Steam  Fleet.  —  Alton  Bay. —Wolfeborongh.  —  Lake  \Vent\vorth.  —  Copple 
Crown.— A  Glimpse  of  Numerous  Islands.— Centre  HarW.  — Red  Hill.— 
Moultonborough  1'ay. —  Melvin  Village. — dreeii's  I'asiu.  —  <  IsMpee  Park. — 
Weirs.  —  A  Provincial  Memento.  —  Meredith. —  Lake  Village.  —  Mount 
Belknap. 

III.     LAKK  "\YI.\.\MSOIIAM 35 

Venetian  Processions. — Winter  Fishing. —  Laconia. 

IV.     ASOU.YM  LAKK 36 

Fish  and  Islands.— A  Debated  Name.— The  Livermores.— Shepard  Hill.— 
Whittier's  Songs.— The  As.inam  Navy.— Squaw  Cove.— Camp  Cliocorua  — 
Little  Siuiam. — Minncsquam. — Peaked  Hill. 


VI.     SUNAPKK  LAKI; 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

X.     LAKE  CHAMPLAIN 54 

The  Richelieu  River.  —  Fishing-Places.  —  Noble  Mountain-Views. — A 
Battleground  of  Nations.  —  Maquam  Hay.  —  Hotel  Champlain.  —  Platts- 
burg. — Ausable  Chasm. — Burlington.  —  Split  Rock. — Ticonderoga. 

XI.     WII.LOUGIIBY  LAKE 56 

A  Vermont  Water-Gap.  —  Mount  Annanance.  —  A  Cluster  of  Flowers  of 
the  Forest. 

XII.     LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOC; 59 

Newport.  —  Lake  George,  Geneva,  or  Loch  Lomond. — -The  Eastern 
Townships.  —  Owl's  Head. — Georgeville.  —  Magog.  —  Mount  Orford. — 
Brome  Lake. 

XIII.    LAKE  ST.  JOHN 67 

Roberval  and  Pointe  Bleue.  —  The  "  Peribonca's  "  Voyages.  —  Down  the 
Saguenay.  —  The  Wmnanish.  —  A  Province  of  New  France. —  Lake 
Edouard. 

XIV.     CONNECTICUT  LAKE 69 

The  Upper-Coos  Route. — Second  Lake. — Third  Lake. — Fourth  Lake. — 
Mount  Prospect. 

XV.     PARMACHENEE  LAKE 70 

The  Magalloway  River.  —  Berlin  Mills.  —  Mount  A/iscoos.  —  A  Carry  to 
Connecticut  Lake. 

XVI.    THE  RANGELEV  LAKES 74 


XVII.     DEAD  RIVER  AND  LAKE  MEGANTIC       82 

Kingfield  and  Eustis. — Chain  of  Ponds.  —Spider  Lake. — Lake  Megantic. 
— Tim  Pond. — Seven  Ponds. 

XVIII.     SEKAGO  LAKE , 83 

Views  of  the  Mountains. — Andrew  and  Hawthorne. — The  Songo  River. 
—  The  Bay  of  Naples. —  Long  Pond. —  Bridgeton.  —  \\aterford. — 
Harrison. 

XIX.     MOOSEHEAD  LAKE 85 

The  Wilderness  Sea. — Its  Mountain-Walls. — The  Voyage  by  Steamboat. 
— Kineo. — A  Line  of  Summer  Hotels. 


XX.     FRONTIER  FISHING 


The  Miramichi  and  Restigouche.  —  The  St.  John  River.  —  The  Smith- 
West  Miramiclii. — The  Tobii|iie  River.  —  <  Jrand  Falls. —  Edmundston. 
—  The  Fish-River  Lakes.  —  Temiscouata  Lake.  —  Cabano  Lake.  -  The 
Aroostook  Country. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

BIRD'S-EYE  MAP  OF  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  ....  Frontispiece. 

AUTOGRAPH   POEM,  BY  JOHN  G.  WHITTIER 12 

PROSPECT-HILL  STATION 14 

ILLUMINATED  POEM 15 

WlNNIPESAUKEE    LlLIES 17 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  LAKE  WINNIPESAUKKK 18 

A  PASSING  SHOWER,  LAKE  WINNIPESAUKEK 19 

STEAMER  " MOUNT  WASHINGTON,"  WINNIPESAUKEE 20 

LAKE  WINNIPESAUKEE,  FROM  LONG  ISLAND 21 

MOUNT  BELKNAP,  FROM  "THE  FORTIES" 22 

BLACK  MOUNTAIN,  FROM  MOULTONBOROUGH  BAY 23 

WINDMILL  AND  MILLER'S  HOUSE,  Cow  ISLAND 24 

MARY'S  ARCH,  OSSIPEE-MOUNTAIN  PARK 25 

"THE  FORTIES,"  LOOKING  TOWARD  OSSIPKK 26 

VIEW  OF  WINNIPESAUKEE,  FROM  OSSIPEE-MOUNTAIN  PARK  ...  27 

RED  HILL,  FROM  MOULTONBOROUGH  BAY 28 

THE  WEIRS 29 

GOVERNOR'S    ISLAND.  —  THE     BEACHES.  —  A     MORNING    FISHING- 
EXCURSION. —  MOUNT  BELKNAP  FROM  THE  BEACHES    ....  31 
CAFE   AND    STATION    AT   WEIRS. —  FLOATING    HOUSE.  —  KNDICOTT 

ROCK 33 

ON  LAKE  WINNIPESAUKEE 34 

MOUNT  CARDIGAN.  —  CHOCORUA 37 

SQUAM  LAKE,  FROM  SHEPAKD  HII.I 38 

A  BIT  OF  SHORE,  SQUAM  LAKE 39 

SUNAPEE  HARBOR 42 

SUNAPEE  LAKE,  FROM  NEAR  LAKE-VIEW   HOUSE 43 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  SUNAPEE  HARP.OR 44 

LAKE  SUNAPEE 45 

A  MORNING'S  CATCH       IS 

CAMP  COMFORT 

SCENE  ON  LAKE  SUNAPEE 

WEBSTER  LAKE 

NEWFOUND  LAKE    .  


8 

PAGE 

WILLOUGHPY  LAKE 56 

STEAM-YACHT  ON  WILLCUGHF.Y 57 

MAP  OF  LAKE  MEMPIIREMAGOG 58 

NEWPORT,  VT.,  ox  LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG 59 

LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG,  FROM  PROSPECT  HILL,  NEWPORT  ....  60 

MAIN  STREET,  NEWPORT,  VT 61 

STEAMER  o.\  LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG 61 

LANDING,  OWL'S  HEAD 62 

VIEW  OE  OWL'S  HEAD 62 

GROUP  OF  ISLANDS 63 

NEAR  OWL'S-HEAD  MOUNTAIN 64 

LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG 65 

ON  THE  MAGAI.LOWAY  RIVER 70 

Aziscoos  FALLS,  MAGALLOWAY  RIVER 71 

UPPER  MAGALLOWAY 72 

ON  LAKE  PARMACHENF.E     , 73 

VIEWS  FROM  RANGEI.EY  LAKES. —  BALD  MOUNTAIN. —  DEAD-RIVER 

MOUNTAINS 74 

A  BIG  TROUT 75 

BEMIS  STREAM. — WEST  KENNEP.AGO  MOUNTAIN',  KANGELEY  LAKES  76 

Aziscoos  MOUNTAIN,  FROM   MOOSELUCMAGUNTIC 77 

DEER  MOUNTAIN,  RANGELEY  LAKES 78 

THE  WHITE  MOUNTAINS,  FROM  L\KE  VMHAGOG 79 

SCREW-AUGER  FALLS,  GRAFTON  NOTCH So 

IN  DIXVILLE  NOTCH 81 

MOOSEHEAD  LAKE,  FROM  MOUNT  KINKO 85 

MOUNT  KINEO.  MOOSEHEAD  LAKE       86 

BIG  AND  LITTLE  SPENCER  MOUNTAINS.  —  SOUAW  MOUNTAIN       .     .  87 

KlNEO,  FROM  THE  NoRTII.  —  KATAHDIN,  FROM  NoKTH  BAY     .     .     .  88 

TOKIOUE  NARROWS 90 

CANTILEVER  BRIDGE.  ST.    I<>iu\,   X.I' 91 

GRAND  FALLS,  N.B 92 


INTRODUCTION. 


AMONG  the  many  natural  beauties  of  \e\v  Kngland,  its  lakes  and 
streams  command  a  noble  and  conspicuous  place.  From  the  placid 
loveliness  of  the  lowland  ponds,  environed  by  grassy  hills  and  rich  farm- 
lands, to  the  wild  picturesqueness  of  the  far  northern  lakes,  where  the  weird 
cry  of  the  loon  is  heard  by  night,  and  the  moose  and  deer  come  down  to 
drink,  there  is  almost  every  variety  of  water-scenery,  and  of  attractions  for 
the  lover  of  Xature  and  the  sportsman.  When  the  tired  city-man  closes  his 
ledgers  and  desk,  and  reverts  to  thoughts  of  the  joys  of  younger  days,  he 
cheerily  says  :  '•  I  go  a-lishing,''  and  starts  off  for  the  grassy  banks  and  rocky 
shores  and  darkling  forest-pools,  whence  the  trout  and  bass  and  pickerel 
may  be  drawn,  Hashing  in  the  fair  summer  sun.  There  is  \Yinnipesaukee, 
mirroring  the  grand  blue  mountains  ot  New  Hampshire;  and  Moosehead, 
buried  in  leagues  of  ancient  forest;  and  the  Kangeleys,  with  their  camps  and 
carries  and  woodland  shades;  and  Memphrcmagog,  winding  away  among  the 
great  highlands;  and  broad  Champlain,  its  silvery  tide  flowing  between  the 
Adiror.dacks  and  the  (Irecn  Mountains;  and  Lake  St.  [ohn,  iar  away  in  the 
wild  Northland,  cooled  by  the  bree/es  from  Hudson's  l!ay.  It  is  of  these 
and  a  few  ot  their  comrade-lakes, — Simapee  and  Spofford,  Asquam  and  New- 
found, Sebago  and  Megantic, —  that  \\'e  would  speak,  telling  briefly  how  they 
may  be  reached,  and  what  may  be  found  about  them,  lloating,  lishing,  bath- 
ing, driving,  climbing,  and  many  other  (onus  ot  recreation  maybe  enjoyed 
amid  these  tranquil  and  restful  localities,  at  light  expen.-e.  and  within  easy 
reach  of  the  cities.  To  those  who  are  wearied  of  the  sea  and  the  mountains, 
the  great  lake-country  of  Northern  New  Kngland  otters  new  and  unusual 
attractions. 

The  human  interest  of  this  region  i-  hardlv  less  than  that  \\hiih  lends 
such  fascination  to  similar  localities  in  the  Old  World,  for  many  years  the 
goals  of  thousands  of  happy  sentimental  iourncv-.  The  lake-;  ot  \\e>tmorc- 
land  won  the  hue  and  called  forth  the  nu  -lodiou-  prai.-e<  of  Wordsworth  and 
( 'olendgc,  but  our  New-Hampshire  mountain-tarns  have  equallv  curved  the 
frequent  visits  and  inspired  the  poem-;  of  Whittier  and  Longfellow,  in  no- 
wise less  admirable.  For  Virgil  and  the  Lake  MaL:gi«iv  \\  e  may  offer  Haw- 
thorne and  Sebago  Lake;  for  William  Tell  and  fair  Lucerne,  we  have  I  >aniel 
Wcb-ter  in  the  beloved  lake-region  of  NYw  [lamp-hire.  L"\viT..  Thoreaii. 
Lverett.  Hartol,  Starr  Kim;,  Winthrop,  and  other  foremost  !e.ider>  d  Amei- 


10 

ican  thought  and  action,  have  found  here  abundant  themes  for  study  and 
inspiration. 

A  great  variety  of  accommodations  is  offered  to  the  summer- voyager, 
from  luxurious  and  costly  hotels  to  comfortable  old  farmhouses,  nestling 
about  the  quiet  bays.  Steamboats  of  all  degrees  traverse  the  clear  waters, — 
the  great  vessels  of  Winnipesaukee  and  Champlain,  and  the  steam-launches 
and  excursion-boats  of  the  minor  lakes.  There  are  all  sorts  of  craft  for 
rowing  and  sailing,  and  the  quaint  horse-boats  of  Winnipesaukee,  and  the 
house-boats,  built  on  the  model  of  the  family-arks  of  the  upper  Thames  and 
the  Norfolk  Broads.  Farther  into  the  wilderness,  Indian  guides  may  be 
found;  and  wild  and  lonely  streams  and  lakes  may  be  followed  for  days 
without  the  sight  of  a  hamlet,  or  even  of  a  pioneer  farm. 

The  present  little  volume  is  one  of  the  three  companion-books  issued  by 
the  Passenger  Department  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  under  the 
general  title  of  "  HERE  AND  THERE  IN  NEW  ENGLAND  AND  CANADA." 
This  work  is  naturally  divided  into  "  ALL  ALONG  SHORE,"  treating  of  the 
beaches  and  islands;  "AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS,"  dealing  with  the  high- 
lands of  New  England,  from  Mount  Holyoke,  Wachusett,  and  Monadnock, 
to  the  White  and  Franconia  Mountains  and  Dixville  Notch;  and  "LAKES 
AND  STREAMS,"  devoted  to  a  consideration  of  the  beautiful  inland  waters  of 
New  Hampshire,  Vermont,  and  Maine,  and  especially  to  Winnipesaukee, 
Sunapee,  Moosehead,  the  Rangeleys,  Memphremagog,  and  the  far-away  Lake 
St.  John,  in  Northern  Canada.  Richly  bound  and  handsomely  illustrated, 
it  is  hoped  that  these  books  may  be  of  service  both  to  actual  travellers  and 
to  people  who  are  planning  for  a  summer-journey.  The  Boston  &  Maine 
Railroad  also  issues  a  little  book  devoted  solely  to  lists  of  the  hotels  and 
boarding-houses  in  each  of  the  localities  on  or  near  its  route,  rates  of  excur- 
sions and  circular-trips,  and  the  service  of  its  parlor  and  sleeping  cars.  It  is 
entitled  "  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  SUMMER  EXCURSIONS."  With  this 
practical  helper,  the  cost  of  an  eastern  trip,  in  time  and  money,  may  be 
computed  approximately. 


OFFICERS 


BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD. 


GEORGE  C.  LORD,  President  .......  BOSTON. 

JAMES  T.  FURHER,  General  Manager         ......  BOSTON. 

DANA  J.  FLANDERS,  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent        .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  E.  LORD,  Assistant  General  Passenger  and  Ticket  Agent     .  .  BOSTON. 

GEORGE  W.  STORER,  Assistant  General  Passenger-Agent  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

CHARLES  A.  WAITE,  Div.  Passenger-Agent,  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  I)iv.,  WORCESTER. 
WILLIAM  MERRITT,  Superintendent  Western  Division     ....  BOSTON. 

DANIEL  W.  SANBORN,  Superintendent  Eastern  Division  .  .  .  BOSTON. 

JOHN  W.  SANHORN,  Superintendent  Northern  Division   .  .          WoLFEBORO1  JUNCTION, 

GEORGE  W.  HURLRURT,  Superintendent  Worcester,  Nashua  &  Portland  Division,  WORCESTER. 
W.  F.  SIMONS,  Superintendent  Southern  Division,  Lowell  System  .  .  BOSTON. 

H.  E.  FOLSOM,  Superintendent  Passumpsic  Division,  Lowell  System,  .  LVNDONVII.LE,  VT. 
G.  E.  TODD,  Superintendent  Northern-Railroad  Division,  Lowell  System,  CONCORD,  N.H. 
FRANK  D.  GOURLEV,  Travelling  Passenger-Agent  .  .  ...  BOSTON. 


TICKET-AGENTS  OF  THE  BOSTON  &  MAINE  RAILROAD  OF  WHOM 
EXCURSION-TICKETS  CAN  BE  OBTAINED. 

SAMCKI.  GRAY       .  218  Washington  Street,  three  doors  south  of  State  Street,  Boston. 

IMF    FVTH  ^  •~'tat'on'  Haymarket  Square,   Boston. 

•'"  |       Station,  Causeway  Street,   Boston. 

N.  B.  DANA          .....         Lowell  Station,  Causeway  Street,  Boston. 

C.  M.  RUGGLES   .......  Union  Station,  Worcester. 

LANCASTER  &  STEEDE    ......        434  Main  Street,  Worcester. 

J.   B.  LKPIRE         ......         25  Washington  Square,  Worcester. 

L.  W.  MARDEN   .........       Station,  Salem. 

A.  H.  QITNCY       .......      Station,  North  River,  Salem. 

A.  A.   DAVIS          .........        Station,  Lynn. 

J.  CLARK  .....  .  Station,  South  Lawrence. 

C.   K.  MILLER       .......  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

H.   H.   CUSHING    ......  Lowell  Station,  North  Lawrence. 

A.  C.  TATI.KY        ........  Station,  Haverhill. 

F.  J.   CLARK  ......  Station,  Central  Street,   Lowell. 

A.   V.   CASWELL    ......          Station,   Middlesex  Street,   Lowell. 

G.  O.  WHITE         ......          Station,  Mcrrimac  Street,  Lowell. 

F.  W.   PorE  .........   Station,  Clinton. 

C.   If.    KINNEY       ........   Station,  Aver  Junction. 

F.  BAKU     ..........  Station,  Nashua. 

G.  S\VAINT  ........  Lowell  Station,  Nashua. 

A.  ELLIOTT  ........         Station,  Manchester. 

C.   L.  GILMOKE      ........  Station,  Concord. 

C.  W.   Kxoui.ns  ........     Station,  Newburyport. 

W.  T.  PERKINS     ........         Station,   Portsmouth. 

P.  WHITE,  JR.       .........     Station,   Exeter. 

C.  A.  HASEI.TIM;  ........     Station,  Dover. 

F.  N.  CHASE         ........         Station,  Great  Falls. 

N.   T.   KiMi'AiJ.     ........  Station,   Rochester. 

A.  E.  15.  FLOYD   ........     Station,  Salmon   Kalis. 

F.   E.   RICHARDSON  .......  Station,   Biddefonl. 

A.  M.  GIIODWIN    .  .  ......       Station,  Saoo. 

W.    F.   FKKNALD     ........     Station,  old   Orchard. 

M.    L.   WILLIAMS  .  .....  T'nion   Station.   Portland. 

C.  J.   WIGGIN         ......     Commercial-Street  Station,   Portland. 

C.   P.   \\ALDRON     .  .  .  .  .  .  .40   Exchange   >treet,   Portland. 


CHAPTER    I. 


LAKEWARD     ROUTES. 

To  ALTON   I!AY.  —  A  GLIMPSE  OF  THK  MERRIMAC.  —  To  WOLFK.BOROUGH. 
—  Ai.oNd  THE  SEA.  —  THE  GREAT  LAKE. 


THERE   arc   two    points   at   which   the  great  lake  of    \Yinnipesaukce  is 
touched   by  the    lloston  &    Maine   Railroad,  and  all  summer  long  the 
trains  of  this  route  are  occupied  by  travellers  on   their  way  to  the  tranquil 
joys  of  the  northern  waters. 


The  most  ancient  route,  and  the  shortest  one,  is  that  which  leads  from 
Boston  to  AHiin  l'>ay,  the  southernmost  extremity  of  the  lake,  by  the  lioston 
&  Maine  Kaihoad,  now  familiar  to  two  generations  of  Xcw-Lnglanders. 

After  the  hour  spent  in  running  through  the  lloston  suburbs,  and  across 
Middlesex,  the  scholastic  towers  of  Amlover  appear  on  the  view,  followed 
by  the  red  lines  of  Lawrence's  cotton-factories,  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle 
along  the  Merrimac.  Lor  the  next  seven  miles  the  train  runs  a  race  with 
the  bright  blue  river,  following  its  course  toward  the  sea,  and  passing  manv 
an  ancient  hamlet  and  colonial  farmstead. 

At  the  pleasant  old  town  <>!  Bradford,  famous  tor  its  long-established 
academy  tor  girls,  our  line  swings  around  on  to  a  long,  lii^h  bridge,  with  the 
•pleasant  citv  of  Ilaverhill  iu  front:  and  so  crosses  the  Merrimac,  looking 


M 

Beyond  the  streets  of  Haverhill,  our  train  rolls  easily  over  many  a  league 
of  rural  New  Hampshire,  past  the  delightful  old  academy-town  of  Exeter, 
and  down  to  the  picturesque  little  city  of  Dover,  the  most  ancient  settlement 
in  the  Granite  State.  Thence  the  route  turns  off  from  the  great  highway  to 
Portland  and  the  mysterious  land  of  "Down  East,"  and  runs  up  the  Cocheco 
Valley,  crossing  a  network  of  railroads  at  Rochester.  The  pleasant  Blue 
Hills  of  Strafford  come  into  view;  and  the  long  town  of  Farmington  is 
crossed ;  and  so,  in  ninety-six  miles  from  Boston,  we  reach  Alton  Bay,  hard 
by  the  dock  of  the  fine  steamer  Mount  Washington. 

Wolfeborough  is  one  of  the  chief  ports  and  summer-resorts  on  Lake 
Winnipesaukee.  It  may  be  reached  by  the  preceding  route,  and  the  steam- 
boat from  Alton  Bay.  But  the  usual  route  is  by  the  Eastern  Division  of  the 
Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  along  the  coast  of  Massachusetts  and  New  Hamp- 
shire, and  through  the  famous  old  sea-cities, — Lynn,  Salem,  Newburyport,  and 
Portsmouth, —  with  many  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  Atlantic,  and  the  cool  salt 


marshes  of  Lynn  and  Newbury  and  Hampton.  Beyond  Portsmouth  and  the 
Piscataqua  River,  we  pass  through  the  busy  villages  of  Salmon  Falls  and 
Great  Falls,  and  across  the  many  railroads  converging  at  Rochester;  and 
then  run  northward  through  Milton  and  Union,  with  their  many  bright  ponds 
and  graceful  hills.  At  Wolfeborough  Junction  the  line  to  North  Conway 
and  the  White  Mountains  is  left,  and  we  go  down  a  branch  railroad  for 
eleven  miles,  and  reaching  Wolfeborough  in  108  miles  from  Boston. 


"THE  SPIRIT'S   SMILE." 


An  Indian  chief,  the  red  men  tell, 
Ere  on  his  drooping  eyelids  fell 

The  sleep  of  death, 

With  latest  breath 

Thus  prayed:   "  Great  Spirit,  ere  I  move 
To  hunting-ground  in  fields  above, 
Some  token  for  my  people  weak, 
Some  pledge  of  blessing  would  I  seek." 


Well  pleased,  the  Spirit  heard  his  prayer, 
And  quivering  through  the  pulsing  air, 

His  smile  of  love 

Fell  from  above; 
And  where  it  touched  the  waiting  earth, 
A  lovely  lake  sprang  into  birth, 
Whose  crystal  wave,  mid  rock  and  isle, 
Reflects,  unchanged,  "  The  Spirit's  Smile." 
J.  E.  HUKI.HUT 


i6 


'  We  had  been  wandering  for  many  days 
Through  the  rough  northern  country. 

We  had  seen 

The  sunset,  with  its  bars  of  purple  cloud, 
Like  a  new  heaven,  shine  upward  from  the  lake 
Of  Winnipesaukee;   and  had  felt 
The  sunrise  breezes,  'midst  the  leafy  isles 
Which  stoop  their  summer  beauty  to  the  lips 
Of  the  bright  waters." 


LAKE     WINNIPESAUKEE. 

THE  NAME.  —  OLD-TIME  INDIAN*  MEMORIES.  —  A  BUNDLE  OK  FACTS. — 
THE  STEAM  FLEET.  —  ALTON  BAY.  —  WOLFEBOROUGH.  —  LAKE  WENT- 
\VORTH.  —  COPPLE  CROWN.  —  A  GLIMPSE  OF  NUMEROUS  ISLANDS. — 
CENTRE  HARBOR.  —  RED  HILL.  —  MOULTONBOROUGH  BAY.  —  MELVIN 
VILLAGE.  —  GREEN'S  BASIN.  —  OSSIPEE  PARK.  —  WEIRS.  —  A  PROVIN- 
CIAL MEMENTO.  —  MEREDITH.  —  LAKE  VILLAGE.  —  MOUNT  BELKNAP. 


"1  T  7"INXIPESAUKEE  is  an  Indian  word-phrase,  meaning  "Beautiful 
V  V  Water  in  a  High  Place,"  and  the  scene  is  admirably  portrayed  by 
this  amazing  polysyllabic  word,  which  lias  been  spelt,  in  old  documents  and 
histories,  in  131  various  ways.  Some  ancient  poet,  unskilled  in  Indian  lore, 
and  deeming  that  such  a  name  and  locality  should  have  a  romantic  meaning, 
affirmed  that  Winnipesaukee  meant  "The  Smile  of  the  Great  Spirit;"  and 
this  pleasant  signification  has  been  handed  down  by  generations  of  believers, 
and  may  never  be  wholly  forgotten.  The  celestial  beauty  of  the  lake,  and 
its  sunny  peacefulness,  give  color  of  reason  to  this  free  translation.  There 
may  be  more  lovely  lakes  elsewhere  in  this  pleasant  world,  but  Lucerne 
could  envy  the  islands  of  Winnipesaukee,  and  Lake  George  could  wish  for 


'•INNll'KSAUKEE    LILIES 


i8 

its  blue  mountain  vistas,  and  Yellowstone  could  sigh  for  its  sweet  and  tran- 
quil farm-lands. 

From  time  immemorial,  the  lake-shores  were  the  homes  of  the  Ossipee 
and  Winnipesaukee  Indians,  and  at  the  Weirs  great  assemblies  of  other 
tribes  gathered,  during  the  fishing-season.  In  later  days,  the  raiding-parties 
of  the  French  chevaliers  and  their  red-skinned  allies  found  this  a  capital 
route  of  attack  from  Canada  upon  the  frontiers  of  New  England,  and  many 
a  bleeding  American  captive  and  the  plunder  of  devastated  villages  were 
borne  northward  along  these  shores.  As  early  as  1689,  Provincial  troops 
made  hot  forays  into  the  Lake  Country,  for  Cotton  Mather  had  denounced 
the  natives  as  "  Scythians,"  difficilius  invenire  quam  interficere.  Thirty-three 
years  later,  block-houses  were  built  and  garrisoned  here,  and  the  aborigines 


A    GLIMPSE    AT    LAKE    NVINNII'ESAUKEE. 

retired  before  the  Provincial  troops.  In  1746,  Atkinson's  New-Hampshire 
regiment  lay,  for  a  year  or  more,  a  few  miles  from  the  lake,  and  built  a 
strong  fortress  at  Union  Bridge,  on  the  Winnipesaukee  River.  Their 
scouting-parties  and  reconnoissances  in  the  neighborhood  gave  them  a 
great  liking  for  this  fair  region  ;  and  a  few  years  later,  when  the  Conquest 
of  Canada  had  made  an  end  of  Indian  raids,  they  moved  on  all  sides  into 
the  Lake  Country,  where  their  descendants  now  live. 

The  modern  taste  for  accurate  statistics  compels  the  statements  that 
Winnipesaukee  covers  70  square  miles  of  water,  in  places  200  feet  deep,  and 
forms  267  islands,  covering  S  square  miles,  226  of  which  are  of  less  than  10 
acres  in  area  each.  The  inability  of  the  small  inflowing  streams  to  form  so 
great  a  lake  causes  scientific  persons  to  believe  that  many  copious  springs 


gush  out  in  the  quiet  depths  below,  preserving  the  crystalline  purity  and 
limpidity  for  which  these  waters  have  always  been  renowned.  The  outlet  is 
the  Winnipesaukee  River,  which  unites  with  the  pure  Pemigewasset  flood  to 
form  the  Merrimac,  entering  the  sea  at  gray  old  Newburyport.  On  the  south 
are  Copple  Crown  and  the  bold  highlands  of  Wolfeborough  and  Alton ;  the 
stately  Belknap  peaks  rise  on  the  west,  like  Vesuvius  from  the  Bay  of 
Naples ;  the  vast  blue  line  of  the  Ossipec  range  closes  in  on  the  east ;  and 
to  the  northward,  beyond  Red  Hill's  long  ridge,  the  imposing  crests  of  the 
Sandwich  Mountains  cleave  the  sky. 

The  two  chief  steamboats  on  the  lake  are  the  Mount  Washington,  plying 
twice  daily  between  Alton  Bay,  Wolfeborough,  Long  Island,  and  Centre 
Harbor  (thirty  miles)  ;  and  the  Lady  of  the  Lake,  running  from  Wolfebor- 
ough to  Centre  Harbor  and  Weirs  (thirty  miles).  Smaller  vessels  run  from 
Lake  Village  to  Weirs  and  Long  Island,  and  sometimes  to  Meredith  and 
Melvin  Village. 


"  We  saw  in   the  distance  the  dusky  lake  fade, 

Kmpurpled  with  twilight's  last  tinges; 
And  slow  came  the  Night,  with  her  curtains  of  shade,' 

And  the  round  rosy  moon  in  their  fringes. 
We  marked  in  the  sky,  in  the  cloud-lakes  on  high, 

The  flocks  of  bird  dreamily  sailing 
From  the  peaks  in  the  west,  and  settle  to  rest 
Where  the  forest-light  slowly  was  failing, 
Round  bright  Alton  Bay." 

The  little  port  of  Alton  Bay,  with  two  or  three  small  hotels  anil 
boarding-houses,  lies  at  the  head  of  a  deep  and  forest-bound  fiord  five  miles 
long,  opening  away  from  the  southern  end  of  the  lake,  and  not  far  from  the 
far-viewing  Sheep  Mountain,  the  Belknap  Mountains,  Merry-Meeting  Lake, 
and  the  pleasant  hill  scenery  of  Gilmanton.  There  is  a  picturesque  drive  of 
eleven  miles  over  the  hills  to  Wolfeborough. 

As  we  emerge  from  Alton  Bay's  long  and  river-like  inlet,  we  pass,  on  the 
right,  the  bold  Fort  Point,  the  seat  of  a  Provincial  border-castle  in  the  old 
battle-days.  The  course  lies  to  the  north-east,  across  a  broad  expanse,  with 


21 


several  uninhabited  islets  gemming  the  bright  lake,  and  the  great  mountains 
of  Ossipee  and  Sandwich  towering  in  the  distance. 


"  How  start  to  light  the  clustering  isles, 

Each  silver-hemmed !     How  sharply  show 
The  shadows  of  their  rocky  piles 
And  tree-tops  in  the  waves  below !  " 

The  pleasant  village  of  Wolfeborough,  at  the  end  of  a  branch  of  the 
Northern  Division  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad,  four  hours  from  Boston, 
and  two  hours  from  North  Comvay,  has  been  a  favorite  summer-resort  for 


MOUNT   BELKNAP,   FROM    "THE    FORTIES." 

forty  years,  and  affords  accommodations  for 
over  a  thousand  guests.    The  view  is  of  great 
beauty,  and  includes  the  narrow  Wolfeborough  Bay, 
beyond  whose  shining  levels  the  peaks  of  the  Belknap 
range  rise  with  grand  effect.     The  facilities  for  boat- 
ing, fishing,  and  riding  are  good ;    and  here  also  the 
vacation-idler  may  say,  with  Walt  Whitman  :  — 


"  I  loafe  and  invite  my  soul, 

I  lean  and  loafe  at  my  ease,  observing  a  spear  of  summer  grass." 


A  mile  or  so  back  of  the  village  is  the  charming  Lake 
Wentworth,  four  miles  long,  and  endowed  with  several  islands,  and  abund- 
ant store  of  fish.  On  its  eastern  shore  stood  Wentworth  House,  the  great 
feudal  mansion  of  John  Wentworth,  the  last  royal  governor  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, who  fled  from  this  fair  domain  to  the  British  fleet  at  Portsmouth, 
bearing  Lady  Wentworth  with  him.  The  house  was  attacked  by  the  patriots 
in  1775,  and  burned  to  the  ground  in  1820. 

Six  or  seven  miles  from  Wolfeborough  is  Copplc  Crown,  whose  summit, 
reached  by  a  mile-long  path  over  the  pastures  and  through  the  woods, 
commands  a  bird's-eve  view  of  Winnipesaukee  and  its  mountain-walls,  with 


24 

Chocorua,  Mount  Washington,  Kearsarge,  the  Isles  of  Shoals,  Wachusett, 
and  Monadnock.  The  high  grassy  hill  called  Tumble-Down  Dick,  about  a 
mile  distant,  gives  another  interesting  prospect. 

Running  out  from  Wolfeborough  Bay,  after  passing  the  landmark  of 
Parker's  Island,  the  steamer  lays  its  course  between  Tuftonborough  Neck, 
on  the  right,  and  Rattlesnake  Island,  on  the  left,  high  and  bold,  covering 
one  hundred  and  fifty  acres  with  its  luxuriant  forest,  and  containing  all  the 
rattlesnakes  in  the  Lake  Country.  Farther  on,  the  lonely  and  unvisited 


WINDMILL   AND    MILLER'S    HOUSE,    COW    ISLAND. 

estuary  of  Tuftonborough  Bay  opens  away  on  the  right  amid  rich  farm-lands, 
and  on  the  other  side  rises  the  green  cone  of  Diamond  Island,  once  the  site 
of  a  hotel. 

Xow  we  enter  the  Broads,  the  chief  unbroken  expanse  of  the  lake,  and 
enjoy  a  magnificent  panorama  of  mountains  and  islands  and  laughing  waters, 
so  that  the  eyes  and  brain  arc  treated  to  a  rare  feast  of  beauty  in  form  and 
color. 

"  I  saw  on  Winnipcsankcc  fall 

The  >hado\v  of  the  mountain-wall." 


MARY'S  ARCH,  OSSIPEE-MOI'NTAIN  PARK. 


26 

and  its  remarkable  red-oak  tree.  On  the  west  are  the  pastures  of  Welch 
Island,  and  then  the  picturesque  group  of  the  Forties,  with  their  winding 
channels,  trout  ledges,  lonely  trees,  and  secluded  coves,  from  which  the  most 
charming  of  views  are  gained. 

Jolly  Island,  of  fifty-four  acres,  and  Birch  Island  and  its  lonely  cottage, 
lie  to  the  westward  from  Long  Island,  across  the  channel ;  and  then  the 
peaceful  inland  voyage  is  directed  between  the  Six-Mile  (from  Centre 
Harbor)  trio  of  islets  and  Bear  Island,  four  miles  long,  once  the  seat  of  four 
thriving  farms,  and  now  partly  occupied  by  the  summer-cottage  colony  of 

Kunnaway,  with  its  steamboat  pier. 
Next,  nestling  under  the  western 
shore,  comes  Pine  Island,  the  home 
of  a  solitary  eagle.  The 
Three-Mile  (from  Centre 
Harbor)  quartette  of 


"THE  FORTIES,"  LOOKING  TOWARD 
OSSIPEE. 


",/       islets    includes    Hawk's    Xest    and    Xabby's 

Isle,  hemmed  by  sandy  beaches,  and  shaded 

?' '.,-  by  trees.    Blueberries  abound  here,  and  black 

bass  haunt   the   surrounding  ledges.      The   Beavers 

/;  =  come  next,  with  their  land-locked  coves  and  seques- 

;     tered  channels  ;  and  Black-Cat  Island,  in  front  of  a  romantic 
.  i    '     cove  laden  with  exquisite  pond-lilies. 

On  the  right  rise  the  singularly  fertile  hills  of  Long  Island, 
with  two  summer-hotels.  The  steamboats  land  passengers  here;  and  the 
hotels  arc  about  eight  miles  from  Centre  Harbor,  by  the  causeway  and 
around  through  Moultonborough.  Across  the  channel  is  Steamboat  Island, 
where  the  first  steamer  on  the  lake,  the  Belknap,  suffered  total  wreck, 
in  1841. 

When  the  boat  is  off  Long  Island,  and  as  she  advances  over  the  quiet 
waters  toward  ('entre  I  larbor,  there  is  a  magnificent  and  impressive  view 
of  Mount  Washington  and  several  other  peaks  of  the  ('residential  Range, 
rising  over  and  far  back  of  the  lo\\  ledges  of  Mount  J'augus.  At  early  sum- 


28 

mer,  or  in  the  autumn  season,  the  great  peak  is  clad  with  snow,  and  flashes 
brightly  through  the  clear  northern  air,  more  than  forty  miles  distant. 
Presently,  the  rocky  spire  of  Chocorua  rounds  into  sight,  from  behind  the 
nearer  Ossipee  Mountains,  and  the  distant  sovereign  of  this  land  of  high- 
lands sinks  away  behind  the  dark  crest  of  Mount  Passaconaway,  and  is  seen 
no  more.  But  it  leaves  in  the  memory  a  glorious  picture,  which  cannot  fade 
away  for  years. 

And  now,  just  ahead,  nestling  under  the  shelter  of  high  hills,  the  white 
houses  of  Centre  Harbor  appear, 

"  The  little  hamlet  lying 

White  in  its  mountain  fold, 
Asleep  by  the  lake,  and  dreaming 
A  dream  that  is  never  told." 


It  is  the  least  bit  of  a  village,  with  a  church  and  two  or  three  stores,  two 
hotels,  a  dozen  summer  boarding-houses,  and  on  the  environing  hills  several 
handsome  villas  of  Boston  and  New-York  families.  There  is  a  goodly 
flotilla  of  various  kinds  of  boats  near  the  Senter  House,  by  whose  aid  one 
(and  sometimes  two)  may  enjoy  rowing  and  drifting  down  towards  the 
islands,  or  around  into  Klackey's  Cove.  Garnet  Hill  and  Sunset  Hill  over- 
look the  bay,  and  afford  charming  views  of  many  leagues  over  its  bright  and 
diversified  s-urfacc,  and  across  its  mimic  archipelagoes.  There  are  many 
beautiful  drives  in  the  vicinity  —  to  Meredith,  or  Moultonborough,  or 
Ossipee  Park,  or  Long  Island,  or  Asquam  Lake,  or  Sandwich;  and  stages 
(of  the  fine  old-fashioned  kind)  roll  away  every  afternoon  to  Sandwich  and 
West  Ossipee. 


29 


3° 

The  favorite  drive  at  Centre  Harbor  leads  "Around  the  Square,"  a  five- 
mile  circuit,  with  lovely  views  of  Asquam  Lake  and  the  Sandwich  range. 
The  favorite  mountain-trip  is  by  carriage  to  the  foot  of  Red  Hill,  four  miles, 
and  then  a  climb  of  something  over  a  mile,  through  the  woods,  with  a  good 
path.  The  prospect  from  the  summit  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  in  any 
land,  and  includes  almost  the  entire  area  of  Winnipesaukee,  bewitchingly 
adorned  with  graceful  islands  and  promontories,  golden  wheat-fields,  and 
miles  of  waving  corn  and  rich  grass-lands,  —  a  noble  expanse  of  blue  and 
silver  and  green,  ten  leagues  long.  In  the  outspread  landscape  glimmer 
white  hamlets,  —  Sandwich  and  South  Tamworth,  Melvin  and  Tuftonborough, 
Centre  Harbor  and  Laconia ;  and  bright  lakes  glisten  along  the  plains;  and 
the  horizon  is  notched  by  great  mountains,  —  the  Ossipees  and  Belknaps, 
Monadnock  and  Kearsarge,  Moosilauke  and  the  Franconias,  Whiteface  and 
Chocorua,  and  many  another  famous  peak. 

Off  on  the  eastern  side  of  Winnipesaukee,  the  deep  inlet  of  Moulton- 
borough  Bay  opens  away  to  the  bases  of  the  Ossipee  Mountains,  with 
leagues  of  winding  water-ways,  overhung  by  untrodden  highlands,  and 
broken  by  scores  of  islets.  The  chief  port  of  this  sequestered  water-way  is 
Melvin  Village,  a  tiny  hamlet,  with  two  churches,  and  several  farm  boarding- 
houses  in  the  vicinity. 

"  Close  beside,  in  shade  and  gleam, 
Laughs  and  ripples  Melvin  stream; 
Melvin  water,  mountain-born, 
All  fair  flowers  its  banks  adorn; 
All  the  woodland's  voices  meet, 
Mingling  with  its  murmurs  sweet. 

"  Over  lowlands  forest-grown, 
Over  waters  island-strown, 
Over  silver-sanded  beach, 
Leaf-locked  bay  and  misty  reach, 
Melvin  stream  and  burial-heap, 
Watch  and  ward  the  mountains  keep."  —  WHITTJER. 

High  up  in  the  bay,  perhaps  six  miles  from  Melvin,  is  the  narrow  strait 
leading  into  the  picturesque  lake  called  Green's  Basin,  two  miles  by  road 
from  Centre  Harbor.  The  groups  of  islets,  and  the  far-projecting  capes, 
make  this  unvisited  tarn  one  of  the  most  romantic  places  in  the  region,  and 
there  is  good  shooting,  withal,  and  beneath  the  crystal  waves  a  gamey 
population  of  black  bass.  At  the  head  of  the  bay,  outside,  is  the  old 
Moultonborough  landing,  to  which  the  steamer  Red  Hill  used  to  make 
regular  trips,  braving  the  maritime  dangers  of  willow-thickets  and  reefs  of 
lily-pads.  But  one  day  her  boilers  burst,  in  the  bay,  for  all  the  world  as 
if  she  had  been  a  Mississippi-River  mail-packet,  and  since  then  steam- 
navigation  has  been  suspended  here. 

High  up  on  a  plateau  of  the  Ossipee  Mountains,  1233  feet  above  the 
sea,  is  the  beautiful  estate  of  Ossipee  J'ark,  pertaining  to  Mr.  B.  F.  Shaw 
of  Lowell,  and  reached  by  an  admirable  carriage-road  from  Centre  Harbor. 
The  views  from  this  breezv  height  are  of  vast  extent  and  unusual  beauty, 


31 


GOVERNORS  ISLAND-   HOME.OF  srttsoN  HUTCHINS, 


32 

and  include  the  wide  expanse  of  Winnipesaukee,  and  scores  of  tall 
mountain-peaks.  On  the  estate  are  the  famous  Falls  of  Song  (Ossipee 
Falls),  and  other  notable  curiosities  of  Nature ;  and  the  vicinage  abounds  in 
legends  of  the  Indians  and  the  English  rangers.  A  three-mile  path  leads  to 
the  observatory  on  Mount  Shaw,  the  chief  of  the  Ossipee  Mountains  (which 
cover  sixty  square  miles) ;  and  from  this  eyrie  you  can  gain  an  amazing  view 
over  Southern  New  Hampshire. 

It  is  an  hour's  voyage  from  Centre  Harbor  to  Weirs,  with  fine  views  of 
the  Sandwich  range,  and  the  blue  Ossipees,  and  other  mountains,  and  many 
pleasant  islands.  Weirs  is  the  summer  capital  of  the  Lake  Country,  a 
large  village  of  hotels  and  boarding-houses  and  cottages,  with  camp- 
meeting  grounds,  and  the  vernal  cantonments  of  several  commands  of 
veteran  soldiers. 

The  great  camp-meeting  grounds,  with  their  sheltering  groves,  dining- 
halls,  and  other  appliances,  have  a  fame  that  is  almost  national,  and  are 
occupied  during  the  summer  by  convocations  of  people  devoted  to  religious 
advancement,  the  temperance  cause,  the  heroic  memories  of  the  Union- 
saving  war,  and  other  worthy  causes,  grangers,  Good  Templars,  musicians, 
oarsmen,  Foresters,  and  other  fraternal  men.  As  recently  as  the  year  1870, 
this  site  was  occupied  only  by  a  little  wooden  railway  station,  and  all  the 
development  of  the  cottage  city,  even  yet  in  its  infancy,  has  gone  forward 
since  then. 

The  view  from  Winnecoette  Hill,  back  of  Weirs,  is  the  most  pleasing 
in  this  vicinity,  and  covers  leagues  upon  leagues  of  the  fair  lake  and  its 
diversified  shores.  A  good  two-mile  road  leads  down  across  the  outlet,  and 
over  a  causeway,  to  Governor's  Island,  with  its  broad  pastures  and  pine 
groves,  and  the  great  stone  mansion  of  its  owner,  the  lion.  Stilson  Hutchins 
of  Washington. 

On  the  hillside  west  of  the  outlet,  near  the  bridge,  stood  the  chief  Indian 
village  of  inland  New  Hampshire ;  and  here,  at  the  time  when  the  shad  and 
salmon  coming  up  the  river  reached  the  lake,  ..fter  the  season  of  corn- 
planting,  thousands  of  sea-shore  Indians  used  to  come  to  visit  their 
mountain  brethren,  and  enjoy  the  fishing  in  the  great  lake.  The  valley 
below  is  made  classic  by  their  fading  legends,  and  the  traditions  of  the 
fortresses  that  they  built  to  check  the  bloody  forays  of  the  Mohawks.  But 
now 

"  Canoeless  lies  the  lonesome  shore, 
The  wigwam's  incense  wreathes  no  more." 

In  1652,  Massachusetts  sent  up  Johnson,  Willard,  Ince,  and  .John 
Sherman  (ancestor  of  the  Ohio  senator)  to  find  and  mark  the  head  of  the 
Merrimac.  and  on  the  so-called  Knclicott  Rock,  above  the  outlet  bridge,  they 
carved  some  of  their  initials,  and  "John  Kndicott,  Gov."  This  venerable 
relic  of  the  Bay  Province's  assumptions  remains  where  the  adventurers 
found  it.  and  the  inscription  may  be  read. 

Steamboats  run  occasionally  from  Weirs,  up  the  long  and  narrow  north- 
western bay.  to  Meredith  Village,  a  manufacturing-place  on  the  railroad, 


33 


34 

and  five  miles  from  Centre  Harbor.  Close  by,  hemmed  in  by  deep  woods 
and  silvery  beaches,  and  gemmed  by  many  a  pretty  islet,  is  Lake  Waukawan, 
whose  cold  depths  are  haunted  by  myriads  of  black  bass. 

In  the  other  direction,  small  steamboats  run  to  Lake  Village,  a  prosper- 
ous factory-town,  almost  environed  by  the  fertile  farms  of  Gilford.  It 
extends  along  the  shores  of  Lake  Paugus  (the  ancient  Long  Bay),  a  four- 
mile  expansion  of  the  Winnipesaukee  River.  Seven  miles  distant,  a  path 
leaves  the  Alton  road,  and  runs  up  over  the  steep  pastures,  for  a  mile  and 
a  half,  to  ihe  summit  of  Mount  Belknap,  whence  is  outspread  the  noblest 
view  iu  the  Lake  Country,  surpassing  even  that  from  Red  Hill.  It  includes 
all  the  lake  and  its  confines,  and  also  the  magnificent  Franconia  and 
Presidential  ranges,  and  a  wide  reach  of  the  ocean  from  Wells  to  Cape 
Ann. 


35 


CHAPTER   III. 

LAKE     WINNISQUAM. 

VENETIAN  PROCESSIONS.  —  WINTER-FISHING.  —  LACONIA. 

"  Tliere  is  power  to  bless 
In  hillside  loneliness, 

In  tarns  and  dreary  places; 
A  virtue  in  the  brook, 
A  freshness  in  the  look 

Of  mountains' joyless  faces." 

LAKE  WINNISQUAM  (winni,  "beautiful,"  and  sqnam,  "water")  is 
one  of  the  prettiest  of  the  great  ponds  in  this  fair  region,  and  may 
be  explored  by  the  small  steamboats  running  from  Laconia,  or  by  house- 
boats towed  from  point  to  point.  It  is  fully  nine  miles  long,  with  an 
extreme  breadth  of  two  miles  ;  and  in  the  northerly  part  several  tiny  islets 
rise  above  the  limpid  waves.  The  shores  are  bold  and  well  wooded,  and 
fairly  frame  this  gem  of  the  hills.  The  lake  is  a  rare  bit  of  landscape 
beauty,  and  reflects  from  its  shining  surface  the  tender  colors  of  the  over- 
arching sky,  and  the  graceful  outlines  of  the  rural  shores.  Sometimes  there 
are  illuminations  of  Winnisquam  by  fireworks,  when  the  lower  shores  break 
into  vivid  pyrotechnic  lights,  and  a  procession  of  all  manner  of  boats  used 
in  fresh-water  navigation  moves  across  the  black  water,  flaming  with 
thousands  of  bright  lanterns  and  fireworks. 

The  best  of  fishing  is  enjoyed  here  in  winter,  from  small  huts  on  the  ice, 
made  snug  and  comfortable  with  stoves  and  stools,  and  other  conveniences. 
These  six-foot-square  houses  are  seen  from  the  trains,  speeding  in  winter 
along  the  Winnisquam  shores.  The  fish  sought  are  line  large  lake-trout,  of 
several  pounds'  weight.  At  this  same  season  the  lake  affords  admirable 
skating,  and  a  level  field  for  horse-trotting. 

Near  the  foot  of  Winnisquam  lies  the  pleasant  town  of  Laconia, 
abounding  in  factories  along  the  river,  and  dowered  with  half  a  do/en 
churches,  an  opera-house,  and  a  newspaper.  There  has  been  much  talk  of 
uniting  this  place  and  the  neighboring  Lake  Village  into  a  city,  which  would 
have  not  far  from  ten  thousand  inhabitants  The  hills  in  this  vicinity  com- 
mand a  series  of  line  views,  including  the  Sandwich.  <  >s>ipcr,  and  llclknap 
ranges,  Kearsarge  and  Moosilaukc,  and  the  beautiful  silvery  shields  <if  the 
surrounding  lakes.  Mount  Belknan,  Weirs,  and  Tilton  (\\ith  its  famous 
memorial  arch)  are  within  driving-distance.  The  summer-hotels  stand  on 
high  ground  near  the  south  shore  of  the  lake,  with  charming  views  in  every 
direction.  The  voyages  of  the  local  navy  lead  to  Island  Cottage.  Three 
Islands,  and  other  pleasant  nooks  along  the  old  \orth  (or  tire.it)  l!av. 


CHAPTER   IV. 


ASQUAM     LAKE. 

FISH  AND  ISLANDS.  —  A  DEBATED  NAME.  —  THE  LIVERMORES.  —  SIIEPARD 
HILL.  —  WHITTIER'S  SONGS.  —  THE  ASQUAM  NAVY.  —  SQUAW  COVE.  — 
CAMP  CHOCORUA.  —  LITTLE  SQUAM.  —  MINNESQUAM.  —  PEAKED  HILL. 

"  Before  me,  stretched  for  glistening  miles, 

Lay  mountain-girdled  Squam, 
Like  green-winged  birds,  the  leafy  isles 
Upon  its  bosom  swam."  —  WHITTIER. 

r~TsHE  perfect  flower  of  American  lakes  is  Asquam,  whose  lovely  bays 
-L  and  sun-lit  broads  are  decorated  with  graceful  and  romantic  islands, 
around  which  flow  clear  and  pellucid  channels,  as  bright  as  the  sky  above 
them.  The  abundant  evergreens  on  the  islands,  the  quiet  pastures  and 
forests  of  the  shores,  and  the  absence  of  villages  or  hamlets,  endow  the 
scene  with  a  wild  Norwegian  beauty,  which  is  marvellously  heightened  by 
the  great  mountains  on  the  north  and  east,  —  Sandwich  Dome,  Tripyramid, 
Israel,  Passaconaway,  Chocorua,  and  Red  Hill.  The  forty-two  islands  are 
drawn  up  in  singular  lines  across  the  lake;  and  around  them  (and  especially 
near  Long  Island,  famous  for  its  perch)  many  fish  dwell  in  peace,  in  the  cold 
spring-water.  In  October,  lake-trout  of  from  five  to  twenty  pounds  are 
speared  over  the  ledges.  Great  numbers  of  bowlders  strew  the  bottom,  and 
enforce  caution  on  the  part  of  boatmen. 

The  scenery  of  Winnipesaukee  is  repeated  here  on  a  narrower  and  yet 
grander  scale.  The  mountains  overhang  the  waves  more  impressively,  and 
the  dancing  waters  are  bordered  by  masses  of  woodland,  rich  acres  of  wav- 
ing corn,  and  the  golden  lights  of  grain-fields. 

"  O  gems  of  sapphire  granite  set! 

0  hills  that  charmed  hori/ons  fret! 

1  know  how  fair  your  morns  can  break, 
In  rosy  light  on  isle  and  lake; 

How  over  wooded  slopes  can  run 

The  noon-day  play  of  cloud  and  sun, 

And  evening  droop  her  oriflamme 

Of  gold  and  red  in  still  Asquam."  —  JOHN'  GKEKNLEAF  WHITTIER. 


37 


who  christened  it  Lake  Sullivan.  It  remained  as  Great  Squam  until  within 
ten  years,  when  its  lovers  have  revived  the  full  Indian  title  of  Asqiiam, 
which  means  simply  "  water." 

Among  the  worthies  who  in  old  times  dwelt  near  Asquam,  the  Eivermore 
family  claims  first  rank,  Arthur,  Samuel,  and  Edward  of  that  ilk  being  for 
many  years  senators,  congressmen,  and  judges;  while  Harriet  wandered 


for  many  years  in  the  Orient,  and 
had    a  famous   controversy   with 
Lady  Hester  Stanhope  in  Syria. 
In    the    old    Episcopal    church, 
which  still  stands  on  the  road  to 
Plymouth,  fudge    I.ivermore  and 
his  lady  sat  on  high  chairs- before 
the     altar,    while     the 
yeomanry    o  cc  u  p  ie  d 
benches    in    a    hollow 
square  around,  and  the 
seven  daughters  of  the 
rector,  with  their  bass- 
viols  and  sweet  voices, 
served  as  the  choir. 

Pietween  the  three 
lakes.  Shepard  Hill 
rises  to  a  height  ot 
eight  hundred  feet  •'**^;' 

above  the  sea.  crowned 
with    a    summer-hotel 
and  several   pretty  cot- 
tages,   and     the     Epis- 
copal   church    of    St. 
Pi  tci's-in-the-Mount.   a   memorial   < 
( 1 7Sii-iS  17)    rector   of    (h\<    region, 
favorite   resort   of   Whiltier,  who>e 
wonderful   scenery  of  the  vicinitv. 
''  Sti  >\'m  on  A--'  mam." 


33 

"  A  cloud,  like  that  the  old-time  Hebrew  saw 
On  Carmel  prophesying  rain,  began 
To  lift  itself  o'er  wooded  Cardigan, 
Growing  and  blackening.     Suddenly,  a  flaw 

"  Of  chill  wind  menaced;  then  a  strong  blast  beat 

Down  the  long  valley's  murmuring  pines,  and  awoke 
The  noon-dream  of  the  sleeping  lake,  and  broke 
Its  smooth  steel  mirror  at  the  mountains'  feet." 

The  \Vhittier  Pines  darken  on  the  hillside;  and  across  the  valley,  on  Sun- 
set Hill,  spreads  the  great  pine, .made  famous  by  the  poem  of  "The  Wood 
Giant." 


r 


The  availability  of  Shepurd   Mill  as  a  summer-home  was  discovered  and 

utili/ed   in    1869   by  Dr.    Hurd   of    \c\v   York  and    J'rof.  W.  A.  Norton    of 
Yale  College,  and  their  cottages  became  the  pioneers  of  many. 

The  view  from  Shepard  Hill  covers  an  area  of  a  hundred  and  fifty 
square  miles,  with  Asrjuam,  Little  Sqtiam,  and  Minnesquam  nearly  sur- 
rounding the  base  of  the  eminence  ;  a  magnificent  view  of  Sandwich  Dome, 
Tripyramid,  Mount  Israel.  I'assaconaway,  1'augus,  the  noble  Chocorua,  and 


39 


Red  Hill,  on  the  north-east  and  cast;  and  a  wilderness  of  peaks,  Squam, 
Prospect,  and  the  far-away  Cardigan  on  the  north  and  west. 

At  the  foot  of  Shepard  Hill,  near  the  pleasant  little  bathing-beach,  is 
a  convenient  landing,  among  the  rhododendrons  and  cardinal-flowers,  and 
haunted  by  the  loon,  the  heron,  and  the  eagle. 

The  Asquam  navy  is  composed  of  two  or  three  small  steamboats  plying 
irregularly,  and  only  when  chartered  by  summer-excursionists  to  circumnavi- 
gate this  gem  of  the  mountains,  with  perchance  a  visit  to  one  of  the  islets. 

On  an  island  in  Carncs'  Cove  stands  a  block-house  inhabited  by  a  lonely 
sea-captain.  On  the  Domes,  to  the  westward,  arc  two  or  three  summer- 
cottages,  dowered  with  exquisite  views  and  unbroken  quietude. 

The  shallow  Squaw  Cove,  with   its  population  of  pickerel,   is  wellnigh 

cut   off  from   the   lake   bv    Rattlesnake   Mountain,   on   the  -» 

j  *y 

north ;  and  its  name  perpetuates  a  romantic  legend  of  the 
Indians.  When  the  tribes  fell  back  before  the  advance  of 
the  Provincial  regiments  and  villages,  a  few  of  their  mem- 
bers preferred  to  brave  the  perils  of  the  white  invaders,  and 


A  BIT  OF  SHORK,  SQrAM  LAKE. 

remained  about  Asqnatn  for  the  rest  <>f  their  lives,  finding  kindly  refuge 
amid  the  mountains  whenever  the  raiding  rangers  entered  the  valley. 

Asquam  is  torty  feet  higher  than  Winnipesaukec,  and  a  water-wav  runs 
from  the  latter,  by  Plackey's  Cove  (near  Centre  Harbor),  up  through  Long 
Pond  and  Round  Pond,  to  within  a  mile  of  Asquam.  Put  this  mile  is 
occupied  by  a  tall  spur  of  Red  Hill,  and  so  it  is  easier  for  canoeing  tourists 
to  have  their  boats  carried  by  wagon  from  Centre  Harbor,  the  distance 
being  but  about  two  miles  thence  to  the  nearest  bay  of  Asquam. 

Two  singular  and  interesting  institutions  on  this  lake  are  (.'amp  Cho- 
corua  and  Camp  Asquam,  the  first-named  occupying  a  wooded  island  of 
three  acres,  where  a  happy  company  of  }><>v<,  under  efficient  tutor>iiin.  are 
taught  to  swim,  row,  lish,  and  enjoy  themselves,  and  grow  strong,  ('amp 
Asqi.iam.  on  the  western  shore,  has  a  score  or  more  of  bovs.  under  the 
direction  of  several  tutors. 


40 

The  outlet  of  Asquam  is  a  very  picturesque,  narrow,  and  crooked  strait, 
through  which  boats  can  pass  with  ease,  running  under  the  highway  bridge. 
This  sylvan  stream  sees, 

"  In  the  mirror  of  its  tide, 
Tangled  thickets  on  each  side 
Hang  inverted,  and  between 
Floating  cloud  or  sky  serene." 

It  opens  into  Little  Squam,  a  handsome  lakelet,  unbroken  by  islands,  and 
bordered  on  one  side  by  high  wooded  hills,  and  on  the  other  by  the  Ashland 
road.  "  Here  the  sunset  builds  her  silver  bridge  upon  an  arch  of  glory ; 
not  an  island  dots  its  surface;  scarce  a  ripple  darkens  its  blueness;  it 
speaks  to  the  heart  of  endless  summer  —  of  eternal  tranquility  ;  its  wooded 
shores  are  gracefully  curved  and  pointed  ;  its  neighboring  highway  is  starred 
with  quaint  old  farmhouses  ;  its  meadows  are  myriad-shaped." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  (and  arduous)  rides  in  this  region  leads  to 
Peaked  Hill,  famous  for  its  views  of  Mount  Moosilauke,  Mount  Washing- 
ton, the  Franconia  peaks,  Cardigan,  Kearsarge  and  Monadnock,  with  the 
misty  Winnipesaukee,  the  shining  levels  of  Asquam,  and  the  beautiful  New- 
found Lake.  Over  in  New  Hampton  is  Beach  Hill,  commanding  a  prospect 
hardly  less  grand. 

Minnesquam  (the  ancient  White-Oak  Pond)  is  a  charming  lakelet  at  the 
south-eastern  base  of  Shepard  Hill,  with  easy  boating,  and  an  old  saw-mill 
at  the  outlet. 

There  are  a  great  number  of  pleasant  drives  from  Asquam,  leading  in 
easy  distances  to  Plymouth,  Ashland,  Centre  Harbor,  and  Meredith,  and  the 
long  and  hill-abounding  road  around  the  lake. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LAKE     SPOFFORD. 

A  VAST  SPRING.  —  ULACK  PASS  AND  PERCH. —  HO\VKLI.S'S  DICTCM. — 
PROSPECT  HILL.  —  THE  RIDE  FROM  KEENE.  —  ]!RATTJ,KI;OROLX;H. 

LAKE  SPOFFORD  is  an  expanse  of  two  thousand  acres  of  the 
purest  spring-water,  rising  through  a  bed  of  white  sand,  surrounded 
by  sandy  beaches  and  groves  of  oaks  and  pines  and  chestnuts,  and  lines  of 
far-viewing  hills. 

The  circumference  is  about  nine  miles,  and  at  various  points  on  these 
delightful  shores  are  groups  of  plain  cottages  for  summer  use,  and  the 
primitive  camps  of  college-students  and  other  simmers  of  luxury.  The  lake 
abounds  in  black  bass  and  perch,  and  furnishes  capital  inducements  for 
fishermen,  for  whose  use  numerous  boats  of  all  kinds  are  ready.  A  steam- 
boat plies  from  point  to  point  along  the  shores,  affording  good  opportunities 
for  excursions,  and  awakening  odd  echoes  with  its  saucy  little  whistle. 

The  visitors  to  the  lake  come  from  all  parts  of  the  Union,  and  spend 
long  seasons  here,  resting  amid  a  calm  so  perfect  that  "  the  grass  can  be 
heard  growing,  and  the  .squirrel's  heart  beating."  William  I),  Uowells.  the 
greatest  living  American  novelist,  has  spent  much  time  here,  and  rinds  in 
this  region  some  suggestions  of  the  Italian  lake-country.  A  beautiful  island 
of  eight  acres  gives  variety  to  the  scenery,  with  its  bristling  trees.  The  lake 
is  seven  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and  two  hundred  feet  above  the  neigh- 
boring valley  of  the  Connecticut. 

The  visitors  to  this  lovely  gem  of  the  Chesterlield  hills  sail  away  to 
Picnic  Point  and  Echo  Cove  and  Park  Hill  and  the  Island,  or  drive  to  the 
granite-walled  Ravine,  and  down  into  the  Connecticut  Valley;  or  climb  up 
Prospect  Hill,  and  look  upon  the  Green  Mountains,  Asciitney  and  Monad- 
nock,  "Cheshire's  haughty  hill."  and  along  the  tesselated  valley  of  the 
( 'onnecticut. 

Pake  Spofford  is  reached  by  a  stage-ride  of  ten  miles  from  Keene, 
through  deep  forests,  and  thickets  of  birch  and  alder,  and  along  the  glens 
ot  a  winding  brook.  The  old  red  stage  finally  reaches  the  Prospect  House, 
on  the  high  bluff  close  by  the  lake;  and  down  below  the  white  steamboat  is 
seen  lying  on  the  water,  which  sometimes  resembles  plate-glass  in  its 
mirror-like  reflections,  or  frosted  silver,  or  molten  sapphire. 

A  morning's  drive  leads  to  the  bright  little  city  of  Keene,  in  the  Ashuelot 
valley;  and  seven  miles  away  is  Prattleboron^h.  a  pleasant  and  historic  old 
Vermont  village,  on  a  commanding  plateau  above  the  ('onnecticut  River, 
with  a  singular  and  oxtlv  monument  to  fames  !•  isk,  jun. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

SUNAPEE  LAKE, 

A  GIRDLE  OK  MOUNTAINS. —  LAKE  VIEW.  —  SI/NAPEE  HARBOR.  —  A 
SCOTTISH  MINSTREL.  —  THE  ISLANDS  AND  SHORES.  —  AN  INDIAN 
MEMORIAL. 


"  Sweet  Granite  '  Katrine '  of  this  mountain  land! 

Oh  jewel  set  amid  a  scene  so  fair ! 
Kearsarge,  Ascutney,  rise  on  either  hand, 

While  (jrnntham  watches  with  a  lover's  care, 
And  our  dark  '  Ren '  to  Croydon  sends  in  glee, 
A  greeting  o'er  thy  silvery  breast,  Lake  Sunapee." 

SUXAPEE   LAKE  lies  among  the  highlands  of  Sullivan  County,  eleven 
hundred   feet  above   the   sea,  nine    miles   long,  and  varying   in   width 
from  half  a  mile  to  a  league.     There  are  six  beautiful  islets  near  the  middle 
of  the  lake,  and  several  others  in  the  northern  part;  and  a  dozen  or  more 


of  wooded  promontories  give  great  diversity  to  the  scene,  and  shelter  lovely 
and  sequestered  bays.  On  all  sides  rise  high  and  richly  wooded  hills  and 
mountains,  clothed  in  the  graceful  habiliments  of  Nature,  and  surrounding 
the  peaceful  scene  like  mighty  sentinels.  At  the  south.  Mount  Sunapee 
overlooks  the  mirror-like  expanse,  a  huge  dark-green  pile  of  forest-clad  rocks 
and  ridges.  To  the  eastward,  the  bare  crown  of  Kearsarge  salutes  the  sky: 


43 


~  ^v    -      \^5  TT^ty  'u>/^i*'^~    ^'-t,- 

$^fo^>: '  1 


~ 


44 

Croydon  Mountain  hems  in  the  westward  view ;  and  on  the  north  loom  the 
lonely  cliffs  of  Ragged  Mountain. 

Some  one  has  called  Sunapee  "the  Loch  Lomond  of  New  Hampshire," 
but  it  more  nearly  resembles  Loch  Katrine,  with  its  secluded  beaches  and 
wooded  shores.  The  low  hills  in  the  vicinity  repay  the  toil  of  ascent  by 
charming  views,  covering  the  bright  lake  and  its  islands,  the  defile  of  the 
Sugar-River  Valley,  and  line  after  line  of  tall 
and  picturesque  mountains,  reaching  far  away 
into  the  dim  blue  distance.  One  of  the  best  of 
these  outlooks  is  that  from  Prospect  Hill,  near 
the  Lake-View  House.  The  waters  of  the  lake 
are  so  transparent  that  the  rocks  and  sands 


Tff*- 


A   GLIMPSE    OF   SUNAPEK    HARBOR. 


thirty  feet  beneath  are  plainly  seen,  and  among  these  submerged  ledges  the 
great  fish  may  be  watched,  as  they  attend  to  their  domestic  and  social  affairs. 
The  grassy  slopes  and  rugged  cliffs  are  mirrored  in  this  still  surface  with 
surprising  faithfulness.  At  this  altitude,  the  air  is  dry  and  cool,  and  agrees 
not  with  the  nimble  mosquito,  the  pest  of  so  many  other  fair  woodland 


45 

scenes.  The  edicts  of  Fashion,  moreover,  are  held  in  obeyance  on  these 
happy  shores,  and  broadcloth  gives  place  to  flannel,  and  tennis-costumes 
and  boating-suits  are  preferred  to  the  more  arduous  garments  of  artificial 


So  it  naturally  happens  that  the  frequenters  of  Sunapee  return 


t  year  after  year,  and  the  pleasant  explorations  of  its  nooks  and  comers, 


s  and  coves  and  islands,  furnish  ever-new  themes  of  interest  and  delight. 


"  I  go  to  meet  the  winds  of  morn, 

Blown  down  the  hill-gaps,  mountain-born, 
Breathe  scented  pines,  and  satisfy 
The  hunger  of  a  lowland  eye." 

On  the  western  shore,  half  way  up,  is  the  summer-resort  of  Lake  View, 
i  its  pretty  cottages,  commanding  a  pleasant  prospect  up  and  down  the 


.A 


Morning's  Catclp      h  . 
lake    .Sunapee. /I. H 


has  raised  this  price  several  thousand  per  cent.  Just  over  the  hill,  and 
beyond  the  granite-quarries,  the  quiet  hamlet  of  Sunapee  Harbor  nestles 
around  an  arm  of  the  lake,  with  its  factories  clustered  along  the  outlet,  the 
rushing  Sugar  River.  Above  this  little  harbor  rises  Sunset  Peak,  with  its 
enchanting  view  of  the  mountains  and  the  lake.  In  the  village  is  the  home 
of  William  C.  Sturoc,  "the  Bard  of  Sunapee,"  one  of  the  most  famous  of 
Scottish- American  poets,  and  a  successful  lawyer  and  orator. 

Turning  from  the  bluff  western  shores  to  those  on  the  east,  we  find 
several  beaches  of  white  sand,  and  the  cottage-resorts  of  Pine  Cliff  and 
Camp  Comfort  and  Blodgett's  Landing.  Between  these  and  Lake  View  is 

Liberty  Island,  joined  by 
bridges  to  the  western 
shore;  and  Great  Island, 
covering  seventy-five 
acres;  and  the  gem-like 
little  Gardner's  Island. 
Away  up  at  the  north 
end  of  the  lake,  the  end 
of  the  steamboat  route, 
is  the  peaceful  hamlet  of 
George's  Mills,  at  the 
outlet  of  Otter  Pond  and 
the  pretty  Little  Suna- 
pee Lake. 

There  is  good  fishing 
in  this  mountain-tarn  for 
landlocked  salmon, 
black  bass,  perch,  and 
lake-trout;  and  many  a 
profitable  haul  of  trout 
has  been  made  along 
Sugar  River,  near  the 
outlet.  Several  passen- 
ger-steamers ply  along 
the  waters,  their  south- 
ernmost port  being  at 
Newbury,  on  the  railway. 
The  voyage  down  the  lake  at  about  sunset  is  a  revelation  of  beauty. 

The  disadvantages  of  Sunapee  might  be  described  in  some  such  words 
as  those  used  by  an  old  English  writer:  "There  arc  but  two  drawbacks  to 
this  delightful  property,  —  the  litter  of  the  rose-leaves  and  the  noise  of  the 
nightingales."  Here  also  we  may  recall  the  advice  of  quaint  old  Thomas 
Fuller,  to  justify  prolonging  our  vacation:  "Chiefly  choose  a  wholesome 
air.  for  air  is  a  dish  one  feeds  on  every  minute,  and  therefore  it  needs  be 
pure.'' 

The  name  of  the  lake  comes  from  .ti>tv/<i, ''  wild  goose,"  and  nifi,  '•  water  ;  '' 
and  preserves  the  memory  ot  the  aboriginal  Indians,  who  frequented  the 


47 


48 

shores  because  then  (as  how)  large  flocks  of  clucks  and  Canada  geese  rested 
here  every  season  on  their  way  southward  from  their  Arctic  summer-homes. 
The  Sunapee  tribe,  dwelling  in  this  vicinity,  was  one  of  the  Algonquin 
clans,  now  for  ever  passed  into  oblivion. 

"  Still  let  thy  woodlands  hide  the  hare, 

The  sly  loon  sound  his  trumpet-note, 
Wing-weary  from  his  fields  of  air, 
The  wild-goose  on  thee  float." 

Of  late  years,  the  fine  woodland  scenery  of  this  region,  the  delicious 
coolness  of  the  air,  and  the  good  opportunities  for  riding  on  the  adjacent 
roads,  and  boating  and  fishing  in  the  lake,  have  given  Lake  Sunapee  an 
increasing  prominence  among  the  summer-resorts  of  the  Granite  State,  and 
its  shores  now  have  accommodations  for  nearly  a  thousand  guests. 

"  The  summer  day 

Rich  in  its  regal  beauty  lay 

Over  headland  and  beach  and  bay, 

And  the  voice  of  the  waves  sang  dreamily 

A  sweet,  low  tale  to  the  listening  ear." 


49 


CHAPTER   VTL 


WEBSTER     LAKE. 

A  LAKELAND   SONG.  —  THE  MIRROR  OF   HILLS.  —  THE   BIRTHPLACE  OF 
THE  GREAT  EXPOUNDER  OF  THE  CONSTITUTION. 


"  White  clouds,  whoso  shadows  haunt  the  deep, 


The  sunshine  on  the  hills  asleep! 


O  isles  of  calm  I— <)  dark,  still  wood! 
And  stiller  skies  that  overbrood 
Your  rest  with  deeper  quietude! 


AFTER  passing  Franklin,  on  its  course  up  countrv,  the  Northern  Rail- 
road gives  a  beautiful  view  over  the  clear  waters  of  Webster  Lake, 
environed  by  graceful  hills,  and  adorned  with  pleasant  beaches  and  prom- 
ontories. In  this  region  there  are  several  unpretentious  summer  boarding- 
houses;  and  the  yeomanry  of  the  surrounding  country  enjoy  many  hearty 
a,nd  unconventional  picnics  here  every  season. 


Not  far  away  is  the  little  farm-house  built  in  1761  by  Capt.  Ebenezer 
Webster,  a  veteran  of  Lord  Amherst's  campaign  of  victory  against  Canada. 
Here  Daniel  Webster  was  born,  where,  as  he  said:  "When  my  father  had 
built  his  log-cabin,  and  lighted  his  fire,  his  smoke  ascended  nearer  to  the 
North  Pole  than  that  of  any  other  of  His  Majesty's  New-England  subjects. 
His  nearest  civilized  neighbor  on  the  north  was  at  Montreal."  The  rural 
regions  of  his  native  State  were  always  dear  to  the  god-like  Daniel,  who 
found  pleasure  and  recreation  in  often  returning  to  them  from  his  great 
works  of  statecraft  and  diplomacy  at  Washington.  Dr.  Arnold,  the  famous 
English  author  and  teacher,  once  said  that  walking  amid  fine  scenery  is  an 
admirable  "anti-attrition";  and  nowhere  can  this  blessing  be  found  to  better 
advantage  than  among  the  pleasant  dales  of  this  lakeland  country  of  New 
Hampshire. 

The  country  has  been  to  a  great  extent  deserted  by  its  former  residents, 
and  ruined  farmhouses  and  overgrown  pastures  appear  on  every  side.  They 
were  once  the  homes  of  sturdy  New-England  men  whose  descendants  are 
now  off  on  the  great  prairies,  seeking  other  habitations  and  new  environ- 
ments. But  how  often  they  must  remember  the  old  homes  by  the  lakeside 
and  the  mountain-stream,  and  say  with  Holmes,  "The  world  has  a  million 
roosts  for  a  man,  but  only  one  nest." 


CHATTER    VIII. 


MASCOMA     LAKE. 

MOUNT  TUG.  —  THE   SHAKER  VILLAGE.  —  CRYSTAL  LAKE.  —  A  DKACE 
OF  HEALING  SPRINGS. 

MASCOMA  LAKE,  the  Indian  Namos-com,  or  "  Fish-Water,''  lies 
among  the  pleasant  hills  of  Enfiekl  and  Lebanon,  a  narrow  and 
winding  pond  of  five  miles  in  length,  resembling  a  section  of  a  crystalline 
river,  caught  among  the  highlands.  Its  shores  are  dotted  with  the  camps 
and  cottages  of  summer  pleasure-seekers,  and  a  steamboat  makes  frequent 
voyages  along  the  tranquil  waters,  touching  at  the  little  vernal  ports. 

The  pleasantest  view  over  Mascoma  is  enjoyed  from  the  lowly  Mount 
Tug,  close  to  North  Enfiekl,  the  manufacturing-village  on  the  outlet.  Many 
fish  dwell  under  the  placid  bosom  of  the  lake,  and  profitable  fares  of  black- 
bass  and  pickerel  are  captured  by  expert  sportsmen.  The  bordering  hills 
look  across  vast  distances  to  the  Green  Mountains  and  the  White  Moun- 
tains, and  other  famous  peaks,  and  especially  upon  "golden-crowned  Cardi- 
gan," lying  along  the  northern  horizon. 

On  the  south-western  shore  is  the  Shaker  village,  divided  into  the 
North,  Church,  and  South  Families,  and  occupying  the  rich  and  narrow 
plain  for  two  miles,  cultivating  and  selling  considerable  quantities  of 
valerian  and  garden-seeds,  and  carrying  on  some  small  manufactures. 
This  singular  colony  dates  from  I7S2;  and  the  home  of  the  Church  Family, 
a  massive  stone  building  of  four  stories,  with  cupola  and  bell,  was,  in  its 
early  time,  the  most  costly  structure  in  New  Hampshire,  except  the  State 
House.  The  Shakers  now  number  about  two  hundred. 

In  this  pleasant  land  of  yea  and  nay,  sleek  cattle  abound,  and  fields  of 
golden  grain  crowd  along  the  margin  of  the  blue  water,  and  sweet  herbs 
perfume  the  still  air.  And  in  the  quaint  homes  of  the  marriage-hating 
elders  earnest  hospitality  dwells,  even  for  the  children  of  the  world. 

The  surrounding  town  is  noted  for  its  diversified  and  tranquil  scenery,  — • 
lakes  and  brooks  and  meadows,  and  graceful  hills  cultivated  from  valley  to 
summit.  Two  miles  east  of  the  head  of  Mascoma,  the  beautiful  Crystal 
Lake  (East  Pond)  glimmers  among  the  guardian  hills,  with  a  single  lonely 
i.sland  breaking  its  deep  clear  waters. 

Four  miles  down  the  Mascoma  vallev  are  the  famous  Chiron  Springs,  a 
pure  and  aerated  alkaline-saline  water,  and  reputed  to  be  rich  in  he. ding 
properties,  especially  in  connection  with  rheumatism  and  dyspepsia.  The 
Jerusalem  Spring  lies  over  in  Canaan,  with  its  extraordinarily  pure  water, 
an  1  views  of  many  a  noble  mountain  wrapped  in  blue  veils  ot  distance. 


CHAPTER   IX. 


NEWFOUND    LAKE. 

BRISTOL. — A  VIEW  IN  BRIDGEWATER. — LACUSTRINE  LOCALITIES.— AROUND 
THE  LAKE. — PEAKED  HILL. 

ONE  of  the  most  lovely  and  least  known  lakes  of  New  England  may 
be  reached  by  going   up  the  Bristol   Branch  from   Franklin,   on  the 
Northern  Railroad,  alongside  of  the  swift  Pemigewasset  River.    On  the  little 
plateau  over  the  gorge  of  the  Newfound  River  stands  the  bright  manufactur- 
ing-village of  Bristol;  and  five  or  six  miles  to  the  northward  the  sparkling 


NEWFOUND    LAKE. 

waters  of  Newfound  Lake  open  away  among  the  hills,  seven  miles  long  and 
three  miles  wide,  and  well  populated  with  lake-trout,  landlocked  salmon, 
black  bass,  pickerel,  chub,  and  perch. 

The  kindly  and  hospitable  fanners  of  the  surrounding  hills  take  many 
summer-boarders  into  their  homes;  and  along  the  shore,  now  in  low  and 
sandv  beaches,  and  again  swelling  into  rocky  promontories,  scores  of  white- 
tents  of  peaceful  campaigners  blink  at  each  other  over  the  wide  water.  The 
little-used  pastures  are  occupied  by  battalions  of  berry-bushes;  and  myriads 
of  sweet  northern  flowers  bloom  all  summer  long  around  the  peaceful  bays. 


S3 

And  the  waters  fill  with  a  mystic  tune 

The  fane  the  cliffs  have  built  to  the  sky." 

From  the  eastern  shore,  in  Bridgewater,  near  the  only  hotel  on  the  lake, 
there  is  an  unusually  fine  view  across  the  placid  waters,  with  Moss,  Belle, 
May  hew,  and  other  wooded  islands  dotting  its  surface,  and  Sugar  Loaf  rising 
from  the  western  shore,  with  Bear  Hill  beyond,  and  Mount  Hebron,  with  the 
white  spire  of  Hebron  village  at  its  foot.  Farther  away  rises  the  long  rocky 
crown  of  Mount  Cardigan,  a  noble  line  of  rocky  crests,  under  the  sunset. 

There  are  many  already  who  know  the  delights  of  Nutting's  Beach,  and 
Grove-Hill  Farm,  and  Crescent  Beach,  and  Breezy  Point,  and  Rocky  Point. 
Around  these  pleasant  camp  and  cottage  resorts  the  lake  smiles  witchingly, 
and  its  mimic  waves  dash  merrily  on  the  white  beaches  and  rocky  islands,  and 
small  boats  of  all  degrees  make  holiday  voyages.  High  hills  approach  the 
glen  on  all  sides, — the  Alexandria  and  Bristol  ridges,  the  well-known  Bridge- 
water  Hills,  and  Crosby  Mountain,  looming  darkly  on  the  north.  Sugar  Loaf 
rises  directly  from  the  edge  of  the  water,  which  is  full  thirty  fathoms  deep 
just  off  shore.  The  surface  of  the  lake  stands  at  597  feet  above  the  sea, 
and  this  considerable  altitude  gives  a  refreshing  coolness  to  the  air. 

A  pleasant  road  of  sixteen  miles  leads  around  the  lake,  most  of  the  way 
under  tall  old  trees,  and  affording  many  lovely  views  over  the  placid  waters 
and  their  environing  hills,  and  the  abounding  lowland  farms.  Another  capital 
excursion  leads  to  the  top  of  Peaked  Hill,  which  commands  a  prospect  of 
great  landscape  splendor,  from  the  Franconia  Mountains  to  the  Sandwich 
Range  and  the  blue  Ossipees,  with  the  glorious  expanses  of  Winnipesaukee, 
Asquam,  and  Newfound. 


54 


CHAPTER   X. 

LAKE     CHAMPLAIN. 

THE  RICHELIEU  RIVER. —  FISHING-PLACES. —  NOBLE  MOUNTAIN-VIEWS. 
—  A  BATTLE-GROUND  OF  NATIONS. —  MAQUAM  BAY. —  HOTKL  CHAM- 
PLAIN.  —  PLATTSBURG.  —  AUSABLE  CHASM.  —  BURLINGTON.  —  SPLIT 

ROCK.  —  TlCONDEROGA. 

LAKE  Champlain  is  less  than  a  hundred  feet  above  tide-water,  and  finds 
its  outlet  in  the  noble  Richelieu  River,  running  down  to  the  St. 
Lawrence  by  Isle  aux  Noix,  Chambly,  Belceil,  and  Sorel.  The  best  fishing 
is  among  the  islands  in  the  northern  bays,  where  bass  and  pickerel  are  found 
in  great  numbers;  and  several  camps  of  anglers  have  been  established  in  this 
vicinity.  There  is  very  good  fishing  about  St.  Albans  Bay,  where  bass  and 
pickerel  reward  the  toils  of  the  angler. 

One  of  the  unchanging  charms  of  Champlain,  in  which  it  is  paramount 
over  almost  all  American  lakes,  is  its  great  number  of  magnificent  views  of 
the  mountain-ranges  on  either  side.  Among  the  most  notable  of  these  is  the 
famous  all-around  panorama  from  the  University  hill  at  Burlington,  with 
scores  of  leagues  of  the  Green  Mountains  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other, 
across  the  foreground  of  the  lake,  the  long  sierra  of  the  Adirondacks.  P'rom 
about  the  Hero  Islands  there  is  another  remarkable  prospect  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks ;  and  from  Basin  Harbor,  opposite  Westport,  the  same  range  appears  in 
glorious  majesty,  with  Mounts  Marcy,  Dix,  and  Hurricane  nobly  conspicuous. 
From  the  ancient  fortress  of  Crown  Point,  the  Green  Mountains  are  seen 
stretching  along  the  eastern  horizon  for  a  vast  distance. 

In  this  sapphire-paved  amphitheatre,  between  the  mighty  ranges  of  the 
Adirondacks  and  the  Green  Mountains,  what  romantic  and  historic  scenes 
have  been  enacted  during  the  past  three  centuries  !  The  ancient  Algonquins 
regarded  it  as  the  gate  of  the  Iroquois  country ;  and  army  after  army  of 
Frenchmen,  Provincials,  Britons,  and  Americans  have  traversed  its  placid 
bosom,  or  locked  themselves  in  deadly  battle  on  its  shores,  while  the  broad- 
sides of  hostile  fleets  awoke  the  echoes  of  the  eternal  hills.  What  memories 
arc  roused  by  the  words  Ticonderoga,  Crown  Point,  Plattsburg,  Valcour 
Island,  Whitehall !  Strange  legends,  too,  rest  about  many  of  the  islands  and 
bays  and  promontories,  and  give  a  tinge  of  unusual  romance  to  Champlain, 
which  a  well-known  antiquary  has  credited  with  "  more  historical  associations 
than  any  other  lake  in  America." 

Within  the  last  five  years,  an  unusual  life  and  activity  have  manifested 
themselves  around  these  shores.  The  number  of  summer-tourists  has  greatly 
increased;  the  noble  sport  of  yachting  has  gained  a  sure  foothold ;  and  in 
many  choice  localities  along  the  coast  new  estates  have  been  founded.  The 


55 

lake  is  126  miles  long  and  fifteen  miles  wide  (at  its  greatest  breadth),  with  a 
depth  of  from  nine  to  forty-seven  fathoms. 

The  tranquil  and  beautiful  arm  of  the  lake  known  as  Maquam  Bay  is  the 
terminus  of  the  St.  Johnsbury  &  Lake-Champlain  Railroad,  and  of  the 
steamboat  line.  Here  stands  the  Hotel  Champlain,  commanding  a  fine  view 
over  the  lake ;  and  not  far  distant  is  the  pretty  village  of  Swanton. 

The  steamboat  voyage  from  Maquam  Bay  leads  down  through  the  Hero 
Islands,  making  several  landings,  and  then  stretching  across  the  lake,  and 
around  Cumberland  Head,  into  the  harbor  of  Plattsburg,  a  large  New-York 
town,  with  a  railway  leading  into  the  Adirondacks,  towards  the  Saranac  Lakes. 
This  is  the  place  attacked  by  Sir  George  Prevost,  in  1814,  with  14,000  British 
troops  and  sixteen  war-vessels,  and  defended  by  Gen.  Macomb  and  4,000 
Americans,  aided  by  Com.  Macdonough  and  fourteen  vessels.  The  invaders 
were  repulsed,  with  the  loss  of  2,000  men  and  their  entire  fleet. 

Running  south  from  Plattsburg,  our  route  lies  near  Valcour  Island,  off 
which  a  British  squadron  destroyed  Arnold's  fleet  of  fifteen  vessels  and 
seventy  guns,  after  a  long  October-day  battle  in  17/6. 

From  Port  Kent,  stages  run  to  the  Ausable  Chasm,  a  wonderful  gorge  of 
two  miles,  which  the  Ausable  River  has  cut  through  the  sandstone  cliffs. 

It  is  a  noble  sail  across  the  lake  from  Port  Kent  to  Burlington,  past  the 
Four  Brothers,  Rock  Duncler,  and  Juniper  Island.  Burlington  ranks  as  the 
chief  city  of  Vermont,  with  12,000  inhabitants,  several  fine  stone  churches 
and  public  buildings,  and  an  immense  lumber-trade.  Here,  also,  you  may 
see  the  University  of  Vermont  (founded  in  1791),  with  its  magnificent  library 
building,  designed  by  Richardson  ;  and  Ward's  bronze  statue  of  Lafayette; 
and  the  grave  and  statue  of  Ethan  Allen ;  and  the  Vermont  Episcopal  Insti- 
tute, on  Rock  Point;  and  the  home  of  Senator  Edmunds;  and  such  sunsets, 
across  the  broad  lake  and  behind  the  jagged  Adirondacks,  as  no  other 
American  city  can  show. 

Steamboats  run  from  Burlington  to  various  ports  in  the  southern  part  of 
the  lake, —  Essex,  Wcstport,  Port  Henry,  and  Ticonderoga, —  over  a  route  of 
great  natural  beauty,  and  rich  in  historical  and  poetic  associations.  On  either 
side  of  the  lake  are  first-class  railways,  traversing  St.  Albans,  Burlington,  Ver- 
gennes,  Middlcbury,  and  Rutland  on  the  east,  and  the  New-York  ports  on 
the  west,  from  Rouse's  Point  and  Plattsburg  to  Lake  George  and  Saratoga. 

A  few  miles  below  Burlington  is  Shelburne  Point,  partly  enclosing  a 
beautiful  bay,  and  occupied  by  two  sons-in-law  of  Commodore  Vanderbilt, 
Messrs.  Webb  and  Twombly,  whose  estates  cover  2,800  acres. 

Near  Essex  is  the  Split  Rock,  the  Rochcr  Fcndii  of  the  French  explorers, 
and  the  Rogers  Fender  of  their  uncomprehending  Anglo-Saxon  rivals.  A 
light-house  crowns  this  lofty  cliff,  whose  neighborhood  is  held  to  be  the  most 
wind-swept  part  of  the  lake,  with  four  hundred  feet  of  water  just  off  shore. 

The  end  of  the  steamboat  route  is  at  the  high-placed  ruins  of  Fort  Ticon- 
deroga. founded  in  1690,  and  rebuilt  by  the  Marquis  cle  Montcalm  in  1755, 
and  for  nearly  a  century  hallowed  by  the  blond  of  thousands  of  gallant 
soldiers,  Mohawk  and  Iroquois,  French  and  Canadian,  English  and  Scottish, 
German  and  American. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

WILLOUGHBY    LAKE. 

A    VERMONT    WATER-GAP.  —  MOUNT    ANNANANCE.  —  A    CLUSTER    OF 
FLOWERS  OF  THE  FOREST. 

AWAY  up  in  Northern  Vermont,  two  great  mountains  rise  above  the 
wooded  plains  of  Westmore,  holding  in  the  gap  between  them  the 
celebrated  Willoughby  Lake,  whose  waters  are  of  such  profound  depth  that 
in  some  places  no  bottom  has  ever  been  found,  even  with  a  hundred  fathoms 
of  sounding-line.     This  limpid  sheet  stretches  away  for  six  miles,  under  the 


shadows  of  the  mountain-walls,  whose  bases  meet  far  below  its  tideless 
bosom,  and  are  explored  by  schools  of  trout  and  muscalonge.  In  the  west, 
the  shaggy  heights  of  Mount  I  lor  reacli  a  height  of  fifteen  hundred  feet 
above  the  water,  crowned  with  dark  evergreens;  and  on  the  opposite  shore, 
over  a  thousand  feet  higher,  looms  the  rocky  spire  which  is  variously  known 
as  Mount  Annanance,  or  Willoughby,  or  I'isgah.  (Annanance  was  the  brave- 
Indian  chief  who  dwelt  here  in  the  bad  old  times  when  New  England's  fron- 
tiers lay  under  the  ban  of  battle,  murder,  and  sudden  death.)  A  path  of  two 
and  a  half  miles  leads  from  the  little  summer-hotel  at  the  foot  of  the  lake  to 
the  top  of  this  polyonomous  peak,  whence  you  may  look  out  over  the  vast 
sugar-maple  forests  of  Newark,  and  hundreds  of  hermitage  farms,  to  the 
clustering  White  Mountains,  and  in  the  other  direction,  across  the  silvery 


Memphremagog,  to  Owl's  Head,  and  again  to  the  interminable  sierras  of  the 
Green  Mountains  and  the  Adirondacks. 

The  shores  and  hills  abound  in  birches  and  maples,  tree-like  arbor-vitae, 
graceful  larches,  yews,  aspens,  beeches,  and  mountain-ashes.  Harebells, 
violets,  forget-me-nots,  orchids,  and  a  great  variety  of  ferns,  are  found  on 
these  shores,  whose  flora  is  set  forth  by  Charles  K.  Kidler,  with  the  usual 
botanical  Latinity,  in  "Appalachia"  for  December,  1884  (Vol.  IV.).  The 
Flower  Garden,  famous  for  its  rich  and  rare  plants,  is  high  up  on  Mount 
Annanance,  beyond  the  Pulpit  Rock. 

A  lonely  country-road  runs  up  the  eastern  shore,  close  to  the  lake,  and 
passes  out  by  Westmore  Mountain  to  Charleston,  near  the  lovely  Seymour 
Lake,  and  Island  Pond,  on  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway.  The  Devil's  Den, 
the  Silver  Cascade,  the  Point  of  Rocks,  and  other  interesting  localities  may 
be  visited  along  this  lakeside  drive,  above  which  the  crumbling  cliffs  of 
Mount  Annanance  soar  high  into  the  blue  firmament.  Or,  if  a  marine  excur- 


sion  is  preferred,  there  are  plenty  of  small  boats  about  the  hotel,  and  also  a 
miniature  steamboat,  whereby  you  may  rush  clown  this  plain  of  limpid  crystal 
to  the  farms  clustered  about  the  outlet,  and  the  crossing  of  the  turnpike  to 
Barton  Landing  and  Irasbnrgh. 

l!ut  our  few  words  about  Willoughhy  Lake  utterly  fail  to  show  forth  the 
fantastic  beauty  of  the  scene,  which  re<  alls  the  I  >elawarc  Water-l  lap,  on  the 
Pennsylvania  border.  That,  however,  is  a  fashionable  resort,  on  a  great  rail- 
way route,  while  Willoughby,  leagues  from  the  nearest  hamlet,  and  with  its 
western  shove  as  unvisited  as  the  heart  of  Greenland,  is  a  place  lor  lovers  of 
pure  Nature  and  the  peace  that  she  brings.  Tile  lake  i-  reached  from 
West  Burke,  on  the-  Passumpsic  Division  of  the  Boston  Ov.  Maine  Railroad, 
by  a  pleasant  stage-ride  of  six  miles. 


<«.     *         /vqftMMM  Wl-"f.  *  «•  »""»• 
%>,^<-/      -^^.TSS^ooooK 


MAP  OF 

LAKE  MEMPHREMAGOG, 

(Lvng^b  SO  m!I«»,J 

1LEWP.OBT,  VT? 

Boston  &  Maine  R.R.  (Passumpsic  Div.) 


CHAPTER    XII. 


LAKE     MEMPHREMAGOG. 

NEWPORT.  —  LAKE  GEORGE,  GENEVA,  OR  LOCH  LOMOND.  —  THE  EAST- 
ERN TOWNSHIPS.  —  Owi.'s  HEAD.  —  GEOROEVII.LE.  —  MAGOG.  —  MOUNT 
ORFORD.  —  BROME  LAKE. 


"  Our  father  rode  again  his  ride 
On  Memphremagog's  wooded  side; 
Sat  down  again  to  moose  and  samp 
In  trapper's  hut  and  Indian  camp; 
Again  for  him  the  moonlight  shone 
On  Norman  cap  and  bodiced  zone; 
Again  he  heard  the  violin  play 
Which  led  the  village  dance  away." 

AT  the  station  of  the  Boston   &   Maine   Railroad   (Lowell   System),   in 
Boston,  you  may  take  mi  char  dortoir  Pullman  attache  an  train  dc 
unit  de  Boston  a  Montreal,  and  reach  Lake  Memphremagog  before  dawn  in 
the  morning.     Or  the  same  transit  may  be  made  between  nine  in  the  morning 
and  five  in  the  afternoon.     And  so,  running  past  the  White  Mountains  and 


NtWPORT   VT 

LAKE  MEMF?HREMAGOG 


the  lovely  lakes  of  New  Hampshire,  and  up  the  long   Passumpsic  Valley, 
you  come  to  Newport,  the  metropolis  of  the  Memphremagog  region. 

The  old-time  Pickerel  Point,  down  near  the  southern  end  of  the  lake,  is 
now  occupied  by  the  pretty  modern  village  of  Newport,  with  its  2,500 
inhabitants,  five  churches,  and  other  civic  institutions,  and  a  great  sunimer- 
hotcl  close  to  the  lake-side.  From  Prospect  Hill,  a  short  walk  from  the 
streets,  a  charming  view  of  the  lake  is  gained,  with  its  line  of  mountain 
guards  and  verdure-tinted  valleys  extending  for  many  leagues. 


6o 

"  Broad  in  the  sunshine  stretched  away, 
With  its  capes  and  islands,  the  turquoise  bay, 
And  over  water  and  dusk  of  pines 
Blue  hills  lifted  their  faint  outlines." 

From  Newport  as  a  centre,  many  interesting  excursions  may  be  made, 
from  the  drives  and  walks  around  the  village  and  the  bay,  to  the  restful 
voyages  down  the  lake  to  Owl's  Head  and  Georgeville,  and  the  longer 
journeys,  full  of  memorable  attraction,  to  Willoughby  Lake  or  Jay  Peak. 
Only  five  miles  distant,  the  frontier-line  of  Canada  marks  the  division 
between  the  two  great  Anglo-Saxon  nations  of  the  west,  daughters  of  Britain, 
and  elder  sisters  of  Australia  and  New  Zealand. 

Newport  is  a  capital  point  for  fishermen  to  visit,  for  in  its  vicinity  there 
is  many  a  pellucid  stream,  where  brook-trout  rise  to  the  seductive  fly,  down 
among  the  fair  valleys  of  Vermont.  And  in  Memphremagog  there  are  plenty 
of  lake-trout  of  three  or  four  pounds,  and  old  fishermen  tell  of  landing  noble 
specimens  that  have  weighed  forty  pounds  each.  The  favorite  locality  for 
this  sport  is  in  the  deep,  cold,  and  clear  waters  in  the  vicinity  of  Owl's  Head, 


where  the  great  cliffs  frown  down  upon  unsounded  depths.  There  are  also 
many  alert  black  bass  in  the  lake,  and  they  may  even  be  caught  from  the 
bridge  at  Newport ;  and  as  to  perch,  they  were  for  years  regarded  as  valueless, 
until  their  schools  wellnigh  filled  the  southern  bays.  The  best  pickereling 
is  in  Fitch  l!ay,  which  is  almost  an  independent  lake,  joined  to  Memphre- 
magog on  its  eastern  side  by  picturesque  narrows.  The  lake-trout  of  this 
region  are  popularly  called  "lunge,"  on  account  of  their  supposed  relation- 
ship to  the  muscalonge  family,  so  abundant  elsewhere  in  Canadian  waters. 
lUit  in  reality  the  muscalonge  is  an  entirely  different  fish  from  the  Memphre- 
magog trout  (salmo  con  fin  is],  which  may  be  found  here  ip  four  varieties. — 
the  black,  silver,  gray,  and  copper. 

Stretching  away  northward  for  thirty-three  miles,  between  rock-bound 
shores  and  ancient  forests,  with  a  chain  of  high  mountains  brooding  along 
its  western  shore,  and  many  a  graceful  island  rising  above  the  clear  waves, 
Memphremagog  truly  merits  its  strong  Indian  name,  which  means  "Beautiful 
Water."  It  attains  a  length  of  thirty-three  miles,  with  a  width  varving  from 
one  to  four  miles,  and  is  traversed  daiiv  bv  a  handsome  Clvde-built  steam- 


6i 

boat,  making  several  landings  on  the  way.    There  are  several  other  steamers, 
and  the  safe  navigation  of  the  lake  is  aided  by  government  light-houses. 

The  steamboat  from  Newport  makes  two  trips  daily    along    the    entire 
'ake,  to  Magog  and  back,  the  running-time  each  way  (including  stops)  being 


'Neivport  Vt, 


about  three  hours.  There  are  many  sail-boats  and  row-boats  at  Newport,  in 
which  trips  may  be  taken  among  the  islands,  and  along  the  picturesque 
shores.  There  is  always  a  bree/e  here,  coming  from  the  mountains,  and 
cooling  the  air  delightfully. 

The  usual  standard  of  comparison  for  Memphrcmagog  is  the  exquisitely 


beautiful  Lake  (ieorgc,  like  this  mountain-bound,  and  adorned  with  pretty 
island>.  <  >ther  people  find  here  resemblances  to  Loch  Lomond:  and  those 
who  have  been  tarther  alield  call  it  the  Lake  (  leneva  o|  ( 'anada.  The 
northern  air  is  strangely  exhilarating,  cooled  bv  the  mountain  elevations, 


62 

or  by  blowing  over  the  crystalline  cold  waters  of  the  lake;  and  overhead 
extends  a  transparent  blue  sky. 

Among  the  other  attractions  of  Memphremagog,  its  picturesque  scenery, 
glorious  sunsets,  serenity  of  sunny  days  and  majesty  of  scourging  gales,  its 


negative  virtues  should  be  set  forth,  in  the  absence  of  mosquitoes  and  black 
flies,  and  of  brooding  fogs. 

As  one  who  is  most  familiar  with  the  region  has  said  :  "  The  scenery  of 
Memphremagog  is  incisive,  vigorous,  robust.  Its  features  are  distinct, 
salient,  characteristic.  It  cannot  claim,  like  Winnipesaukee,  a  wealth  of 


island  jewelry,  but  the  brooch  and  studs  it  wears  are  enough  to  adorn  without 
destroying  the  unity  of  its  shining  bosom.  Its  shores  are  heavily  wooded, 
and  for  the  most  part  bold  and  rugged,  but  at  times  gently  subsiding  into 
sloping  beaches." 


63 

Four-fifths  of  the  lake  are  within  the  Canadian  lines,  cutting  into  the 
heart  of  the  nine  counties  composing  the  Eastern  Townships,  so  called  in 
distinction  from  the  Seignories,  inhabited  by  feudal  French  habitant.  The 
settlers  here  came  from  New  England,  and  held  their  domains  "in  free  and 
common  soccage  "  —  a  peaceful  race  of  hardy  pioneers,  who  find  two  jails 
more  than  enough  for  nine  great  counties. 

And  so  premising,  we  will  run  out  of  Newport  and  down  the  lake.  After 
the  boat  has  passed  Indian  Point,  where  the  last  settlement  of  the  aborig- 
ines stood,  the  white  Canadian  village  of  Stanstead  appears  beyond  the 
Twin  Sisters  islands ;  and  the  huge  green  mass  of  Bear  Mountain  looms  in 
the  near  west.  Near  Province  Island,  the  property  of  Mr.  Zabriskie  of  New 
York,  where  buried  treasures  await  discovery,  we  cross  the  invisible  line 


which  separates  the  sister-nations,  Canada  and  the   United  States;  and- so 
we  become  like  the  famous  Lord  ISateman  : 

"  And  lie  departed  into  foreign  lands 
Strange  countries  for  to  see." 

The  most  conspicuous  and  noble  object  about  the  lake  is  the  great 
mountain,  Owl's  Head,  rising  abruptly  from  the  western  shore  to  a  crown  of 
bare  crags,  and  with  a  summer-hotel  at  the  base,  and  Round  Island  olf 
shore.  A  path  a  mile  and  a  half  long  leads  to  the  summit,  whence,  on  a  clear 
day,  the  adventurous  climber  may  see  the  great  lake  underspread,  the  "\Yil- 
loughbys  and  White  and  Green  and  Adirondack  Mountains,  and  many  a 
lonely  lake,  set  in  the  illimitable  green  of  the  northern  plains.  Rougemont 


64 

and  Beloeil  rise  in  the  remote  north-west,  and  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame 
mark  the  site  of  Montreal. 

From  the  bosom  of  the  lake  Jay  Peak  may  be  seen,  rising  with  fine  effect 
in  the  south-west;  and  on  rarely  clear  days  the  far-away  crest  of  Mount 
Washington  may  be  descried,  low  down  on  the  horizon.  The  nameless 
hills  and  ridges  beyond  Elephantis  huddle  about  the  foot  of  the  lake,  with 
their  tempting  suggestions  of  wild  lands  to  be  explored,  and  virgin  streams 
to  invite  the  angler's  attention. 

Across  the  lake  is  Bay- View  Park,  at  the  mouth  of  Fitch  Bay,  and  near 
Skinner's  Island,  where  a  celebrated  smuggler  of  eighty  years  ago  used  to 
evade  the  customs  officers  by  disappearing  in  an  unknown  cavern.  Beyond 
is  Long  Island,  with  its  fringe  of  palisades  and  a  famous  Balance  Rock.  The 


Allans,  Molsons,  and  other  prominent  Montreal  families  have  villas  along 
the  eastern  shore  here,  looking  across  at  the  sharp  pyramid  of  Owl's  Head 
and  the  Jumbo-shaped  Mount  Klephantis. 

The  estate  founded  here  by  the  late  Sir  Hugh  Allan  is  the  most  conspic- 
uous on  the  lake.  In  the  old  days,  the  flag  of  the  Allan  Line  of  ocean 
steamships  waved  from  this  mansion  during  the  season  ;  and  the  lord  cf  the 
manor  used  to  carry  his  guests  about  the  lake  in  a  handsome  steam-yacht,  a 
diminutive  model  of  the  great  Atlantic  steamships.  The  Allan  place  is  four 
miles  below  Georgcville.  Just  to  the  northward  is  the  pleasant  summer- 
home  of  Mr.  Alexander  Molson  of  Montreal,  near  Molson's  Island  and  its 
lovely  sheltered  bay.  Farther  up  the  valley,  in  and  near  Stanstead,  there 
are  several  comfortable  summer-estates,  or  country-houses,  belonging  to 


65 

Montrealers.  It  is  surprising  that  this  feature  of  life,  so  attractive  to  our 
Anglo-Canadian  brethren,  should  not  have  been  developed  to  a  greater 
extent  on  these  lovely  and  salubrious  shores,  which  should  be  to  Montreal 
what  Loch  Lomond  is  to  Glasgow. 

Georgeville  is  a  primitive,  quiet,  inexpensive  little  Canadian  village, 
decadent  since  the  busier  days  about  the  middle  of  the  century,  when  its 
trade  covered  a  great  area  of  the  Eastern  Townships.  A  large  modern 
hotel  now  caters  for  summer-travel,  succeeding  the  famous  old  Camperdown 
Inn.  "Georgeville  is  one  of  the  most  self-possessed  towns  of  Canada;  a 
single  wire  and  a  daily  mail-bag  keep  it  in  communication  with  the  outside 
world.  But  no  breezes  of  intelligence  from  any  direction  ever  disturb  the 
perfect  serenity  of  its  peace." 

Here  you  may  enjoy  the  bright  and  electric  mornings,  with  life  in  the  air 
and  an  indescribably  jocund  gleam  on  the  waves.  And  after  the  silent  after- 


noons, under  a  sky  of  turquoise,  the  splendors  of  sunset  flood  the   western 
mountains  with  rich  and  rosy  tints. 


The  little  hamlet  nestles  at  the  feet  of  high  green  hills,  and  attracts  a 
great  number  of  <  'anadian  summer-guests,  mostly  from  the  well-to-do  families 
of  Montreal.  The  great  hotel  across  the  lake,  now  wellnigh  dismantled, 
was  built  by  capitalists  from  the  metropolis  of  Canada,  to  be  an  ultra-fash- 
ionable resort  for  \e\v-\Vorld  baronets  and  gentry  and  their  families;  but 
the  scheme  failed  of  success,  and  the  house  was  never  opened. 

After  leaving  Georgeville,  we  run  across  the  bright  hike  and  up  Sergeant's 
Bay  to  Knowlton's  Landing.  Rounding  the  high  rock-  of  Gibraltar  Point, 
with  its  great  ruined  hotel,  and  traversing  a  narrow  strait  inside  of  a  wooded 
island,  Mount  Orford  appears  in  advance,  and  the  steamboat  speeds  down 


66 

across  broader  reaches  to  Magog,  a  small  Canadian  hamlet  on  the  outlet,  the 
Magog  River,  which  flows  down  over  many  a  bright  rapid,  abounding  in 
trout,  to  the  St.  Francis  River.  From  Magog,  we  may  ride  to  the  top  of 
Mount  Orford,  in  five  miles,  and  look  out  over  the  interminable  forests  of 
the  Eastern  Townships.  Over  back  of  the  mountain  there  is  a  sequestered 
lake,  famous  for  its  abounding  fish,  who  fairly  clamor  to  be  caught. 

A  queer  old  steam  ferry-boat  crosses  the  lake  from  Georgeville  to 
Knowltou's  Landing,  whence  a  ride  of  fourteen  miles  over  rugged  and  pic- 
turesque hills  leads  to  the  busy  village  of  Knowlton  and  its  summer-hotel,  at 
the  head  of  Brome  Lake,  three  by  four  miles  in  area,  with  low  and  sedgy 
shores,  and  furnishing  pickerel  and  black  bass  for  the  sportsmen  of  Mon- 
treal. The  return  journey  should  be  made  through  the  notch  in  the  Bolton 
Mountains,  past  the  trout-abounding  Coon  Pond.  Brome  Lake  is  the  reser- 
voir of  the  Vamaska  River,  flowing  down  into  the  great  St.  Lawrence  Valley. 
Nor  will  the  angler  omit  to  visit  Brompton  Lake  and  Sugar-Loaf  Pond,  with 
their  abundant  trout;  or  Magog  Lake,  where  trout  and  pickerel  rise  to  the 
fly ;  or  St.  Francis  Lake,  abounding  in  many  varieties  of  fish. 

One  of  the  'pleasantest  companions  at  Lake  Memphremagog  is  "  The 
Shaybacks  in  Camp,"  by  the  Rev.  Samuel  J.  Barrows  of  Boston,  portraying 
the  happy  experiences  of  a  family  encamping  on  the  shore  near  Georgeville. 

Through  the  pass  in  the  mountains  that  line  the  lake  along  the  west,  we 
may  descend  to  the  Missisquoi  Valley,  with  the  deep  pools  and  swift  currents 
of  its  river;  and  journey  to  Bolton  Springs,  the  fashionable  resort  of  this 
part  of  the  Eastern  Townships. 


67 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

LAKE     ST.    JOHN. 

R.OHERVAL  AND    PoiNTE    13LEUE. — THE  "  I'ERIJSONCA's"  VoYACES. —  DOWN 

THE  SAGUENAY.— THE  WINNANISH. — A  PROVINCE  OF  NEW  FRANCE. — 
LAKE  EDOUARD. 

THE  trip  to  Lake  St.  John  is  one  of  the  most  novel  and  interesting  in 
America,  and  is  admirably  served  by  through  sleeping  and  buffet  cars, 
running  from  Boston,  over  the  Lowell  System  of  the  Boston  &  Maine  Rail- 
road, up  the  Merrimac  Valley  and  past  Lake  Winnipesaukee,  and  reaching 
Quebec  at  early  morning.  After  a  full  day  in  the  ancient  fortress-city,  the 
parlor-car  starts  for  Lake  St.  John,  two  hundred  miles  to  the  northward, 
past  many  a  quaint  hamlet  of  French  peasants  and  Indian  hunters,  and  then 
for  scores  of  leagues  through  the  virgin  forest.  At  late  afternoon  the  great 
lake  is  reached,  and  a  steamboat  runs  up  to  Roberval  and  its  new  summer- 
hotel.  So  broad  is  this  remote  forest-sea  that  its  blue  waters  form  the 
horizon-line,  and  the  farther  shore  is  quite  invisible.  Roberval  is  a  village 
of  one  thousand  inhabitants,  with  a  Catholic  church  and  an  Ursuline  con- 
vent; and  on  Pointe  Bleue,  a  few  miles  distant,  stands  the  old  Hudson's- Bay 
Company's  fort,  still  visited  by  crowds  of  Montaignais  Indians,  from  the 
wild  north  land  towards  the  great  bay.  The  railway  is  being  prolonged  from 
Cliambord  Junction  to  St.  Jerome,  towards  Grande  Decharge,  and  will  in 
time  reach  Chicoutimi  and  Ha-IIa  Bay.  The  steamer  Pci-ibi'iica  makes  daily 
trips  around  the  lake,  and  to  the  mouths  of  the  great  northern  rivers,  and 
gives  views  of  the  islands,  the  tin-clad  spires  of  the  parish-churches,  the 
sand-hills  of  the  northern  shore,  the  yellow  sandy  beaches,  the  snow-white 
three-hundred-feet  falls  of  the  Ouiatchouan,  the  church  of  St.  Prime,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Ashuapmouchouan,  and  the  blue  Laurentian  Mountains.  It  is 
about  thirty  miles  down  the  Sagucnay  to  Chicoutimi,  the  northern  port  of 
the  Quebec  steamboats;  and  this  journey  niav  be  made  in  canoes,  with  the 
skilful  local  boatmen,  rounding  the  rapids  by  portages. 

The  lake  is  twenty-six  miles  long  by  twenty  miles  wide,  rather  shallow, 
and  receives  the  waters  of  several  rivers,  three  of  which,  the  Ashuapmou- 
chouan,  Peribonca,  and  Misiassini,  are  each  over  two  hundred  mile*  long 
and  a  mile  wide  at  their  mouths.  They  flow  down  from  the  watershed  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  and  Hudson's  Bay,  from  Lake  \ikouban  and  oilier  savage 
solitudes. 

The  iish  for  which  this  northern  sea  is  famous  is  the  winani.-he,  or  land- 
locked salmon,  long,  slim,  and  gamey,  and  averaging  above  two  pounds  in 
weight.  Among  other  iish  found  here  are  trout,  pickerel,  cu.-k,  perch,  pike, 


68 

dace,  and  eels.  Some  of  the  best  fishing-grounds  are  near  the  house  of  the 
Saguenay  Club,  on  Alma  Island,  where  the  Saguenay  River  leaves  the  lake. 
The  road  from  the  railway  leads  hither  by  way  of  St.  Jerome  and  St.  Gedeon. 

The  ancient  monopolies  of  the  Domaine  du  Roi,  the  Northwest  Company, 
and  the  Hudson's-Bay  Company  kept  this  vast  Saguenay  Valley  empty  for 
over  two  centuries,  save  for  a  chain  of  trading-posts  extending  from  Tadou- 
sac  to  Mistassini  and  Hudson's  Hay.  With  the  cessation  of  the  Company's 
power,  in  1842,  a  great  wave  of  French  immigration  moved  up  the  valley,  and 
now  it  contains  forty  thousand  inhabitants.  Around  the  lake,  tobacco, 
melons,  and  maize,  and  other  crops,  are  raised.  There  are  fourteen  parishes 
here,  inhabited  by  sturdy  and  prolific  French-Canadians,  courteous,  hos- 
pitable, and  entertaining.  Their  little  white  farm-houses  line  the  shore  for 
many  miles,  here  and  there  assembling  in  little  hamlets,  each  with  its  school 
and  church. 

On  the  way  up  from  Quebec  the  railway  passes  Lake  Edouard,  narrow 
and  winding,  and  twenty-seven  miles  long,  studded  with  islands,  and  enwalled 
by  the  Laurentian  Mountains.  There  are  capital  camping-grounds  here,  and 
a  small  hotel  also.  Large  trout  are  found  in  amazing  numbers,  and  the 
lake  is  leased  by  the  railway  for  the  use  of  its  patrons.  The  return-trip 
includes  pleasant  and  fruitful  sojourns  at  Quebec  and  at  Lake  Memphrema- 
gog ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  week,  with  a  total  expenditure  for  transportation, 
transfers,  hotel-bills,  etc.,  of  less  than  fifty  dollars,  the  amateur  explorer 
reaches  home  once  more,  possessed  of  much  to  remember  and  enjoy  in  the 
retrospects  of  years. 


Adventurous  tourists  who  seek  this  far-away  fragment  of  Norman  Amer- 
ica should  read  NY.  II.  II.  Murray's  "The  1  )oom  of  Mamelons,"  and  the 
illustrated  leading  article  in  Scribner's  Magazine  for  May,  1889,  entitled 
'•The  Land  of  the  Winanishe." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 


CONNECTICUT     LAKE. 

THE  UPPER-COOS   ROUTE.  —  SECOND   LAKE.  —  THIRD    LAKE.  —  FOURTH 
LAKE.  —  MOUNT  PROSPECT. 

CONNECTICUT  LAKE  is  sixteen  miles  by  stage  from  West  Stewarts- 
town,  on  the  Upper-Ceos  Railroad,  which  diverges  from  the  (Irand 
Trunk  line  at  Stratford.  It  has  a  small  steamboat  and  a  summer-hotel,  and 
is  frequented  by  many  sportsmen,  for  the  sake  of  the  fishing  and  hunting  for 
which  all  this  region  is  famous  From  the  lake,  pleasant  views  are  afforded 
of  the  Magalloway  Mountains  and  other  rarely  visited  ranges. 

Connecticut  Lake  covers  perhaps  three  square  miles,  with  very  irregular 
shores,  partly  in  grassy  pastures,  but  mainly  in  primeval  forest.  The  beauty 
of  the  scene,  when  autumn  has  overflowed  it  with  gorgeous  coloring,  is  finely 
described  by  Prof.  Iluntington,  in  the  Geology  of  A'cw  Hampshire  (Vol.  i). 

The  Second  Connecticut  Lake,  two  miles  long,  is  praised  by  Iluntington 
as  "one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  our  northern  lakes.  The  graceful  contour  of 
its  shores,  the  symmetry  of  its  projecting  points,  the  stately  growth  of  its 
primeval  forests,  the  carpet  of  green  that  is  spread  along  its  border  and 
extends  through  the  long  vista  of  the  woods,  the  receding  hills  and  the 
distant  mountains,  present  a  combination  of  the  wild,  the  grand,  and  the 
beautiful  that  is  rarely  seen." 

About  seven  miles  from  the  Second  Lake,  ascending  the  infant  Connect- 
icut, is  the  Third  Lake.  2,058  feet  above  the  sea,  and  covering  less  than  a 
square  mile,  surrounded-by  high  hills  and  wild  gardens  of  sub-alpine  (lowers 
anil  immense  evergreen  trees. 

A  little  rill  descends  into  Third  Lake  from  Fourth  Lake,  a  lonely  forest- 
pool,  -051  feet  above  the  sea,  and  close  to  the  St.  Lawrence  watershed  and 
the  Canadian  border.  This  is  the  ultimate  source  of  the  great  Connecticut 
River,  which  Hows  southward  for  hundreds  of  miles,  to  Long  Island  Sound. 
It  is  half  hidden  amid  vast  evergreen  forests,  with  no  >ign  o|'  civili/ation. 
(lose  by.  and  within  a  few  minutes'  walk,  is  the  top  ot  Mount  Prospect, 
overlooking  thousands  ot  square  miles  oi  the  Ouehec  woodlands,  as  wild  as 
the  heart  of  Saskatchewan. 

"  1'Yexh   from   the   roek   :>n,l  wellin-  by  the  tree, 
Unshin-   to  meet   and  d.'re   rind  breast    the   sea, 
Fair,  noble-,  glo'ious   river  I    hi    thy    u  ,\e 
The  .  uiiniesi   slope*  and  .-\\eete-t    p.istmvs   lave." 


70 


CHAPTER   XV. 

PARMACHENEE    LAKE. 

THE    MAGALLOWAY    RIVER.  —  BERLIN    MILLS.  —  MOUNT    Aziscoos.  —  A 
CARRY  TO  CONNECTICUT  LAKE. 

AFTER   crossing    red   Umbagog,  the   steamboat   runs  down    the    rapid 
Androscoggin  River  for  a  few  miles  to  Errol  Dam,  and  then  back  a 
little  way,  and  up  the  Magalloway  River  for  sixteen  miles,  to  the  Berlin-Mills 


r  sweeps  the  long  coasts  of  natural   meadows,  dotted  with  royal  elms;  or 


flashes  down  over  long  inclines."  It  is  hardly  more  than  a  hundred  feet  wide, 
and  winds  in  a  surprising  manner,  through  overarching  cloisters  of  living 
green.  The  inflowing  streams  come  down  from  lonely  forest-ponds,  the  haunts 
of  deer  and  moose,  the  blue  heron,  and  wild  ducks.  From  the  1  Scrim-Mills 
House  a  buckboard  road  leads  nearly  to  the  summit  of  Mount  Aziscoos2  the 
finest  mountain  in  all  the  Rangcley  country,  whose  outspread  panorama  it 
commands  with  superb  effect. 


A/isco<">s  Falls  arc  six  miles  by  road  from  the.1  mills;  and  here  the  second 
section  of  steam-navigation  begins,  and  the  swift  and  narrow  Magalloway  is 
ascended  fur  fifteen  miles,  to  the  Lower  Mett.ilnk  Pond.  For  twelve  miles 
above  this  point  the  river  traverses  a  succession  of  rich  meadows,  and  may 
be  ascended  by  canoes.  Then  comes  a  portage  path  ot  tour  miles,  leading 
to  Parmachenee  Lake,  solitary  among  the  verdure-clad  hills,  whose  only 


72 

inhabitants  are  bears  and  deer  and  the  smaller  children  of  the  primeval 
forest.  The  public  house  is  called  Camp  Caribou,  and  stands  on  a  romantic 
island  near  the  head  of  the  lake.  Here  sportsmen  spend  weeks  of  every 
summer,  2,500  feet  above  the  sea,  and  surrounded  by  the  charms  of  Nature 


• 


in  her  wildest  mood.  Xo  human  home  appears  on  all  the  score  of  miles 
around  the  placid  lake.  Its  altitude  of  2,500  feet  above  the  sea  gives  an 
added  virtue  to  the  air.  Thoreau,  that  wise  naturalist,  averred  that  the  air 
of  Maine  is  a  diet-drink ;  and  a  very  choice  brand  of  it  may  be  found  here. 


73 

The   vicinity   of   Parmachenee    is   enriched   by   many   excellent  fishing- 
grounds, —  Beaver  Pond,  Saturday  Pond,  Moose  Brook,  Little  Boy's  FalHB 
and  others ;    and  there  are  snug  little   huts  for  fishermen  near  several  dm 
these  localities.     The  chief  object  in  the  natural  scenery  of  the  lake  is  the 
conical  Bose-Buck  Mountain,  rising  from  the  south-eastern   cove;    and  the 
great  Mount  Carmel  lies  within  two  or  three  miles  of  the  lake,  on  the  north- 


west, (llimpses  arc  gained  also  of  the  untrodden  boundary  Mountains 
Standing  thus  at  the  headwaters  of  the  Andrusco^gin.  YOU  may  wish  t. 
return  by  another  route.  If  so,  it  is  only  ten  miles  (but  tremendously  han 
ones)  from  Camp  Caribou  to  the  Second  Connecticut  I  ,ake,  whose  water: 
flow  down  I  rom  near  the  frontier,  and  enter  the  Connecticut  Ri\ei. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


THE    RANGELEY   LAKES. 

FARMINGTON. — RANGELEY.— INDIAN  ROCK. — CUPSUPTIC. — LAKE  MOOSE- 
LUCMAGUNTIC. — BALD  MOUNTAIN.— MoLLYCHUNKAMUNK  LAKE. —  LAKE 
WELOKENNEBACOOK.— LAKE  UMBAC.OG. 

"  Then  I  gently  shake  the  tackle 
Till  the  barbed  and  fatal  hackle 
In  its  tempered  jaws  shall  shackle 
That  old  trout,  so  wary  grown." 

AWAY  up  in  the  north-western  corner  of  Maine,  deep  amid  the  forests,  and 
surrounded  by  untrodden  mountains,  arc  the  famous  fishing  and 
hunting  grounds  of  the  Rangeley  Lakes,  for  a  generation  past  the  favorite 
resort  of  the  better  class  of  New-England  sportsmen.  This  charmed  region 
is  entered  by  taking  the  Boston  &  Maine  Railroad  to  Portland,  whence  we 
may  go  by  the  Maine 
Central  Railroad  to 
Farmington  and  Phillips, 
and  stage  to  Greenvale, 

on    Rangeley    Lake;    or       &  •  .\ 

by  the  Grand  Trunk 
Railway  to  Bryant's 
Pond,  and  stage  to  \n- 
dovcr  and  South  Arm 


NGEI.EY    LAKES. 


on  Lake  Welokennebacook;  or  by  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  to  Bethel,  and 
stage  to  Lake  Umbagog.  There  are  do/ens  of  hotels,  camps,  and  boarding- 
houses  around  the  lakes,  with  simple  but  comfortable  and  inexpensive 
accommodations;  and  expert  guides  and  woodsmen  may  be  secured  at  many 
points  to  help  the  novice  in  learning  how  to  catch  and  cook  the  trout  and 


salmon,  or  to  bring  down  the  deer  and  moose.  The  wise  game-laws  of  the 
State  of  Maine  are  carefully  enforced  here,  so  that  the  wild  denizens  of  the 
forest  counties  grow  more  numerous  every  year,  and  the  Rangeley  country 
remains  a  great  game-preserve,  visited  during  summer's  open  season  by 
sportsmen  from  all  over  the  Republic.  The  region  covers  an  area  of  eighty 
square  miles,  at  a  height  of  1,500  feet  above  the  sea,  and  is  diversified  by 
tall  mountains  and  ridges,  silvery  lakes  and  ponds,  and  a  network  of  crystal- 
line trout-streams,  winding  through  the  ancient  forests. 

From    Farmington,   the    beautiful    old   capital    of    Franklin   County,   a 
narrow-gauge   railroad   runs   up   the    Sandy-River   valley   to    mountain-girt 

Phillips,  whence  a  stage-ride 
of  seventeen  miles  leads  to 
Greenvale  and  Rangeley. 
A  steamboat  runs  from 
Greenvale  along  Rangeley 
Lake  to  the  hamlet  of 
Rangeley  and  the  Outlet, 
There  are  eight  good  trout- 
ponds  within  five  miles  of 
Rangeley,  and  ten  miles 
north  is  the  lonely  and  beau- 
tiful Kennebago  Lake. 
Xear  the  foot  of  Rangeley 
Lake  stands  the  Mountain- 
View  House,  i  ,700  feet 
above  the  sea,  and  looking 


liEMIS    STREAM. 

WEST    KENNEBAGO    MT. 

RANGELEY    LAKES. 


across  the  placid  waters  to  the  long  ridge  of  Bald  Mountain.  A  short  and 
pleasant  walk  leads  from  the  Outlet  clown  to  Indian  Rock,  the  headquarters 
of  the  Oquossoc  Angling  Association,  a  wealthy  company  of  Boston  and 
New-York  gentlemen,  who  have  established  here  comfortable  lodges  and 
fish-hatcheries,  and  a  fleet  of  many  boats.  This  corporation  is  one  of  the 
chief  agencies  in  stocking  the  lakes  with  young  fish,  and  in  enforcing  the 
observance  hereabouts  of  the  game-laws  of  Maine. 

Another  carry  leads  in  little  over  a  mile  from  the  Outlet  to  Ilaines' 
Landing  and  the  Mooselucmaguntic  House,  a  famous  place  for  large  trout, 
and  a  great  variety  of  game  in  the  forest.  Close  to  Indian  Rock,  the  beautiful 
Cupsuptic  Lake  opens  away  to  the  northward,  environed  by  sandy  beaches 


77 


and  broken  by  long  promontories  and  green  islands.  By  ascending  this 
bright  forest-tarn  and  the  inflowing  stream  for  seventeen  miles,  we  may  reach 
the  long  eight-mile  carry  which  leads  across  the  hills  to  Parmachenee  Lake, 
away  up  at  the  head  of  the  Magalloway  River.  From  Cupsuptic  Lake,  the 
Narrows,  abounding  in  fish  and  bordered  by  camps  and  lodges,  leads  to 
Indian  Rock  and  Lake  Mooselucmaguntic,  the  central  basin  of  the  Rangeley 
country,  with  a  length  of  eight  miles  and  a  width  of  two  miles.  A  small 
steamboat  makes  daily  trips  down  the  lake,  from  Indian  Rock  to  Haines' 


Landing,  Bugle  Cove,  Bemis 
Camp,  and  the  Upper  Dam, 
a  pleasant  voyage,  past  isl- 
ands large  enough  to  have 
furnished  vast  rafts  of  lum- 
ber, and  miniature  archipel- 
agoes and  tree-tufted  rocks 
and  islets.  Noble  mount- 
ain-views are  afforded, —  the  A/iscobs  and  Boundary  peaks  on  the  north,  Bald 
Mountain  on  the  east,  and  the  Bema  group  on  the  south,  with  the  far-away 
White  Mountains  low  down  on  the  hori/on.  This  is  indeed  the  most  pictur- 
esque and  diversified  of  the  lakes,  and  affords  also  the  greatest  advantage  for 
the  sportsman.  From  Allerton  Lodge,  at  Bugle  Cove,  the  ascent  of  Bald 
Mountain  is  sometimes  made,  and  from  this  lake-surrounded  peak  an  inter- 
esting view  is  given  over  the  wide  Range-ley  country.  Bugle  Cove  also  has  a 
notable  prospect  of  Mount  Aziscobs,  and  of  Elephant's  Hump  and  the  other 


79 


peaks  of  the  Pema  Range.  Hema  P>ay  opens  away  toward  the  mountains, 
from  the  lower  part  of  the  lake,  and  receives  the  outlet  of  the  1'eina  Ponds. 
Here  stands  the  woodland  hostelry  known  as  Camp  Pcmis,  and  accommo- 
dating a  goodly  number  of  sportsmen. 

The  outlet  of  Mooselucmaguntic  is  at  the  Upper  Dam,  a  ponderous 
structure  of  timber  and  rocks,  a  third  of  a  mile  long,  built  in  1X45-47.  There 
is  a  hotel  near  by  ;  and  some  of  the  best  trout-fishing  around  the  lakes  may 
be  enjoyed  in  the  vicinity. 

A  short  carry  leads  from  Trout  Cove,  on  Mooselucmaguntic,  to  Echo 
Landing,  on  Mollychunkamunk  Lake,  somewhat  smaller  than  its  neighbor, 
and  covering  ten  square  miles,  amid  Trosach-like  scenery  of  thronging  hills, 
overlooked  by  Aziscoos,  Moose  Mountain,  and  other  high  blue  peaks.  Its 
clear  cold  waters  are  the  home  of  myriads  of  trout  and  land-locked  salmon, 
affording  satisfactory  sport  to  the  anglers  whose  camps  and  lodges  nestle 


WHITE    MOUNTAIN? 


'.AGOG    LAKE. 


along  the  picturesque  shores.  On  one  side  a  trail  leads  to  "the  paradise  of 
deer  and  ducks,"  Metaluk  Pond;  and  on  the  other  is  the  outfall  of  the 
lovely  and  sequestered  Richardson  Ponds,  within  live  miles  of  Mount 
Aziscoos. 

A  singular  two-mile  corridor  of  water  in  the  forest,  rock-bound  and  leaf- 
strewn,  joins  Mollychunkamunk  to  its  southern  sifter-lake,  dainty  Welokcn- 
nebacook  ;  and  at  its  outlet  a  remarkable  view  is  given  of  Mount  \Yashington 
and  its  noble  brethren.  Soon  afterward,  A/i.-coos  and  <  Hiservatory  Peak 
come  into  sight  in  the  oppo.-.iie  direction. 

The  steamboat  on  I  .akcWelokeinie!  >ao«.,k  run-  <!  >\vn  by  the  Middle  1  >am, 
and  into  the  South  Ann.  hemmed  about  with  r<»kv  and  wooded  ridges. 
From  the  hotel  at  its  head,  stages  traverse  a  picture^  m-  mountain  region  to 
Andover  and  P.rvant's  Pond,  on  the  (Irand  Trunk  Kaiiwav.  thhtv-tive  miles 
awav.  This  is  the  u-.ua!  route  to  the  lower  lake.--  'it"  the  Rangeley  chain, 
being  more  direct  than  any  other,  fur  1 1  avcilers  i  oimiu;  1  rmn  Portland  \\  av. 


8o 


The  Middle  Dam,  at  the  outlet  of  Welokennebacook,  has  a  hotel  and 
steamboat  landing,  whence  a  portage-road  six  miles  long  follows  the  course 
of  Rapid  River  down  to  Lake  Umbagog,  the  lowest  and  largest  of  the 
Rangeley  group.  It  covers  an  area  of  eighteen  square  miles,  with  many 

islands  and  projecting 
points,  and  views  of 
the  White  Mountains, 
the  Diamond  Peaks, 
Aziscoos,  and  the  high 
ranges  toward  Dix- 
ville  Notch  and  along 
the  Canadian  border. 
The  ports  visited  by 
the  steamboat,  after 
leaving  the  end  of  the 
carry  from  Middle 
Dam,  are  Upton,  at 
the  south  end  of  the 
lake,  whence  stages 
run  through  the  Graf- 
ton  Notch  to  Bethel ; 
and  Errol  Dam,  well 
into  the  Androscoggin 


SCREW-AUGER   FALLS,   GRAFTON"   NOTCH. 


River,  the  outlet  of  Umbagog.  From  this  point,  highways  lead  up  to  Dix- 
ville  Notch  and  Colebrook,  on  the  Upper-Con*  Railroad,  and  to  Milan,  close 
by  the  White  Mountains. 


Si 


IN    UIXVILLE   >,OT(JH. 


82 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

DEAD  RIVER  AND   LAKE   MEGANTIC. 

KlNGFlELD    AND    EUSTIS.  —  CHAIN    OF    PONDS.  —  SPIDER  LAKE.  —  LAKE 
MEGANTIC.  —  TIM  POND.  —  SEVEN  PONDS. 

THE  narrow-gauge  railroad  leading  from  Farmington,  in  Maine,  to 
Phillips,  connects  at  the  village  of  Strong  with  another  and  similarly 
built  line,  which  makes  a  long  ascent,  and  crosses  the  shoulder  of  Mount 
Abraham  at  Salem,  and  ends  at  Kingfield.  From  this  quiet  hamlet  of  the 
wilderness  a  stage-route  ascends  the  pleasant  Carrabassett  valley  for  twenty- 
eight  miles,  to  Eustis,  with  its  hotel,  on  the  banks  of  Dead  River,  and  in 
full  sight  of  Mount  Bigelow.  There  are  a  dozen  ponds  in  this  vicinity,  with 
sportsmen's  camps,  and  plenty  of  game  and  fish,  the  chief  of  them  being  the 
Big  Spencer  Lake,  eight  miles  long,  and  the  beautiful  Round-Mountain 
Lake,  eleven  miles  from  Eustis.  A  buckboard  road  leads  up  the  Dead- 
River  valley,  following  the  route  of  Gen.  Benedict  Arnold's  famous  march 
against  Quebec,  and  in  eleven  snd  a  half  miles  reaching  the  Chain  of 
Ponds,  with  their  sportsmen's  camps  and  inexhaustible  stores  of  trout. 
Farther  on  is  Chain  Lake,  in  Maine;  and  two  miles  beyond  the  Canadian 
frontier  lies  the  celebrated  Spicier  Lake,  the  seat  of  the  club-house  of  the 
Megantic  Fish  and  Game  Association.  Lake  Megantic  is  within  less  than  a 
mile  of  Spider. 

The  new  road  to  Spider  Lake  leads  from  near  Tim  Pond. 

Lake  Megantic  may  be  reached  also  by  taking  the  Lowell  System  from 
Boston  to  Sherbrooke,  in  Canada,  and  thence  by  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Railway  direct  to  the  lake.  A  steamboat  runs  on  Megantic;  and  from  the 
little  hamlet  of  Three  Lakes  a  walk  of  half  a  mile  leads  to  Spider  Lake. 

Turning  off  from  the  Kingfield-Eustis  road,  at  Stratton,  twenty-two  miles 
from  Kingfield,  and  a  little  way  beyond  Dead  River,  a  buckboard  road  leads 
in  five  miles  to  Smith  Farm,  on  a  plateau  which  commands  Mount  Bigelow, 
Saddleback,  Mount  Abraham,  Mount  Blue  and  many  other  unfamiliar 
northern  peaks.  Six  miles  farther  on  are  the  famous  fishing-grounds  of  Tim 
Pond,  2,000  feet  above  the  sea,  and  renowned  for  their  voracious  trout. 
Hereabouts,  also,  dwell  moose  and  deer,  hares  and  foxes,  and  even  the 
beaver,  now  so  nearly  extinct  in  New  England.  There  are  several  good 
camps  here ;  and  others  may  be  found  at  Seven  Ponds,  four  hours' journey 
farther  into  the  forest.  From  this  point  the  river  may  be  descended  (with  a 
four-mile  carry)  to  Kennebago  Lake,  whence  the  route  is  plain  to  Rangelcy 
or  Mooselucmaguntic. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


SEBAGO    LAKE. 

VIEWS  OK  THE  MOUNTAINS.  —  ANDREW  AND  HAWTHORNE.  — THE  SONGO 
RIVER.  —  THE  P.AY  OF  NAPLES.  —  LONG  POND.  —  I!RIIK;TON. — WATER- 
FORD. —  HARRISON. 

"  Around  Sebago's  lonely  lake 
There  lingers  not  a  breeze  to  break 
The  mirror  which  its  waters  make. 

"  The  solemn  pines  along  its  shore, 
The  firs  which  hang  its  gray  rocks  o'er, 
Are  painted  on  its  glassy  floor." 

—  WHITTIER. 

DOWN  within  sixteen  miles  of  Portland,  on  the  route  to  North  Conway, 
the  singularly  clear  and  pure  waters  of  Sebago  Lake  cover  nearly  a 
hundred  square  miles,  with  a  depth  in  places  exceeding  400  feet.  It  forms 
a  broad  unbroken  expanse,  of  fine  proportions,  the  few  islands  being  near 
the  shores.  The  immediate  vicinity  of  the  lake  is  rather  devoid  of  pictur- 
esque features,  but  grand  views  of  the  White  Mountains  are  afforded  in  the 
north-west,  —  the  red  peaks  of  Chocorua  and  Moat,  the  dark  domes  of 
Passaconaway  and  Carrigain,  and  the  remoter  Presidential  line,  fully  forty 
miles  away.  On  one  side  of  the  lake  is  the  ancient  town  of  Windham,  still 
cherishing  the  birthplace  of  John  A.  Andrew,  the  war  governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts; and  just  beyond,  at  the  head  of  the  long  Raymond  Cape,  is  the 
obscure  rural  neighborhood  where  dwelt  Nathaniel  Hawthorne  during 
several  of  the  years  of  his  youth.  Near  the  Notch,  a  picturesque  strait 
between  the  outer  point  of  Raymond  Cape  and  Fryc's  Island,  they  point 
out  a  cavern  opening  on  the  water,  into  which  the  lad  used  to  row  his  boat, 
and  meditate  in  loneliness. 

The  steamboat  leaves  the  Sebago-Lake  railway  station  daily,  running 
northward  through  a  chain  of  lakes  and  rivers  for  over  thirty  miles.  The 
interest  of  the  voyage  consists  largely  in  its  diversity  of  scenery,  the  tine 
views  of  far-away  mountains,  and  the  valuable  biographical  associations  of 
the  region. 

At  the  head  of  Sebago  Lake,  the  steamer  passes  between  lung  lines  of 
brushwood  jetties,  and  enters  the  fAmous  Songo  River,  a  stream  six  miles 
long,  so  narrow  and  still  that  the  overhanging  forests  cover  its  bosom  with 
their  reflections,  and  so  strangely  devious  that  the  boat  makes  nearlv  thirty 
turns  within  the  two  leagues.  At  one  point  she  enters  a  lock,  and  is  raised 
to  the  higher  level  of  the  lakes  above. 


84 

• 

"  Nowhere  such  a  devious  stream, 
Save  in  fancy  or  in  dream, 
Winding  slow  through  bush  and  brake, 
Links  together  lake  and  lake. 

"  Walled  with  woods  or  sandy  shelf, 
Ever  doubling  on  itself, 
Flows  the  stream,  so  still  and  slow, 
That  it  hardly  seems  to  flow." 

—  LONGFELLOW'S  Songo  River. 

A  mile  beyond  the  lock  the  little  steamer  enters  a  two-mile  pond, 
known  as  the  Bay  of  Naples,  and  calls  at  the  uneventful  hamlet  of  Naples. 
Here  we  enter  the  river-like  expanse  of  Long  Pond,  thirteen  miles  long  and 
less  than  a  mile  and  a  half  wide,  its  shores  lined  with  farms,  and  overlooked 
by  the  august  shapes  of  distant  mountains,  the  crown  of  New  England. 
Stages  run  from  Bridgton  Landing  in  a  few  minutes  to  the  prosperous  village 
of  Bridgton,  the  terminus  of  a  narrow-gauge  railroad  running  to  the  Maine- 
Central  route  between  Portland  and  North  Conway.  A  short  distance  to  the 
northward  is  the  beautiful  Highland  Lake,  gemmed  by  wooded  islets,  and 
overhung  by  green  highlands. 

The  next  port  is  North  Bridgton,  a  lovely  lakeside  hamlet  under  the 
shadows  of  venerable  trees,  and  much  frequented  by  summer-guests.  Five 
miles  to  the  north,  amid  rugged  mountains  and  sunny  lakelets,  is  Waterford, 
famous  as  the  birthplace  of  "  Artemus  Ward,"  the  great  American  humorist 
of  an  earlier  generation.  Several  other  men  of  national  fame  originated  in 
this  secluded  mountain-town. 

The  last  port  on  the  lake  is  Harrison,  a  pleasant  village  at  the  outlet  of 
Anonymous  Pond.  On  the  noble-viewing  hill  back  of  this  fresh-water 
harbor  flows  the  Summit  Mineral  Spring,  held  in  high  repute  for  its  medici- 
nal virtues. 

The  fishing  in  the  Sebago  waters  consists  of  black  bass,  land-locked 
salmon,  pickerel,  white  perch,  and  trout.  The  favorite  rendezvous  for 
anglers  is  at  Ingalls's  Grove,  on  Long  Pond. 

A  brief  description  of  the  notable  lakes  of  Maine  would  fill  a  volume  far 
too  ponderous  for  our  present  purpose.  We  must,  therefore,  pass  by  Lake 
Maranacook,  in  Winthrop,  the  most  famous  picnic-ground  in  the  State, 
winding  for  eight  miles  among  the  hills  and  groves,  and  dotted  with  pretty 
islets;  the  great  ponds  of  Belgrade,  with  their  miniature  archipelagoes,  and 
myriads  of  bass  and  perch;  Cobbossee  Contee  Pond,  near  Gardiner,  stretch- 
ing for  nine  miles  between  grassy  hills  and  groves  of  cedar  and  red  oak,  and 
populous  with  black  bass  and  white  perch ;  Anclroscoggin  Pond,  in  Leeds, 
flowing  for  nearly  two  leagues  through  a  lovely  rural  region  frequented  by 
summer-boarders;  Weld  Pond,  not  far  from  Wilton,  overlooked  by  Mount 
Blue,  and  famous  for  its  fisheries;  Lake  Auburn,  three  miles  from  the  city 
of  Auburn,  with  its  well-known  mineral  spring  and  summer-hotel ;  and  scores 
of  others. 


CHATTER   XIX. 


MOOSEHEAD     LAKE. 

THE    WILDERNESS    SEA. —  ITS    MOUNTAIN-WALLS.  —  THE   VOYAGE    HY 
STEAMBOAT. —  KINEO. — A  LINE  OK  SUMMER-HOTELS. 

MOOSKIIKAI)  is  the  queen  of  the  Maine  lakes,  far  away  in  the  north- 
ern wilderness,  a  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  and  presenting  a  rare 
combination  of  mountain  and  crag,  silent  primeval  forests,  and  enchanted 
islands,  and  great  sunlit  reaches  of  blue  water,  with  many  a  lovely  silvcr- 

sanded   cove   and   tranquil   bay.     The  grand 

scale  on  which  Mother  Nature  worked  while 
building  the  State  of  Maine  is  exemplified  in 
this  bright  inland  sea,  which  has  a  length  of 


thirty-eight  miles,  and  an  ex- 
treme breadth  of  fourteen 
miles.  It  is  the  great  ti>h- 
pond  ot  the  country,  with 
millions  of  river  and  lake 
trout,  whitcti^h.  and  other 

gamey  denizens  of  tlie  waters.  Over  the  rough  >ra>  that  the  >outh-e.i>t  gales 
(  t'ten  pile  up,  the  Indian  canoes  llo.u  like  gull>,  ([iiartering  along  the  white- 
crested  waves  with  inimitable  graci  and  buoyancy. 

The    four    hundred   miles   of   shoreline    em  in  ling    Moosehead   contain    a 


86 


great  variety  of  scenery,  lines  of  shaggy  hills,  deep  and  sheltered  bays,  and 
the  estuaries  of  well-known  fishing-streams.  The  perfumes  of  pine  and  spruce 
fill  the  pure  highland  air,  untainted  by  the  dead  exhalations  of  towns,  and 
prepay  a  tonic  which  it  is  delightful  to  breathe.  This  is  the  chief  of  all  the 
myriad  lakes  of  Maine  ;  and  every  season  thousands  of  vacation-tourists  seek 
its  refreshing  and  invigorating  surroundings. 

The  favorite  excursion  is  to  the  top  of  Mount  Kineo,  a  steep  scramble, 
by  a  well-marked  path  leading  through  fragrant  woodlands,  and  over  stretches 
of  soft  moss  and  iron-like  ledges.  From  the  summit  we  gain  a  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  great  lake  with  its  shining  northern  bay,  and  its  many  shadowy  mount- 
ains, and  the  dim  distant  peak  of  Katahdin. 

Trusty  guides  may  be  found  at  the  Kineo,  by  whose  aid  many  pleasant 
excursions  are  enjoyed  over  the  surrounding  waters,  and  to  the  haunts  of  fish 


among  the  Moody  Islands  and  over  by  Brassua,  and  Tomhegan,  and  Socatean. 
Or  the  bolder  adventurer  may  ascend  to  the  North-East  Carry,  whence  a 
road  leads  in  two  miles  to  the  West  Branch  of  the  Penobscot.  (When 
James  Russell  Lowell  carried  his  baggage  over  this  portage  he  estimated  the 
distance  at  18,674:}  miles.)  Thence  the  canoes  descend  the  West  Branch  of 
the  Penobscot  for  eighteen  miles  to  Lake  Chesuncook,  eighteen  miles  long, 
and  enwrapped  in  the  great  northern  wilderness.  The  West  Branch  flows 
down  thence  for  ninety  miles  to  Mattawamkeag,  on  the  Maine  Central  Rail- 
road ;  and  from  Chesuncook  the  sturdy  woodsman  may  visit  Chamberlain 
Lake,  and  Caucomgomoc,  and  Caribou  Lake,  and  Ripogenus,  and  many 
another  silent  tarn  among  the  houseless  woods. 

The  graceful  Squaw  Mountains,  the  cone-like  peaks  of  the  Spencer  range, 


87 

and  the  Lily-Bay  group,  with  scores  of  great  green  hills,  and  the  singularly 
precipitous  Mount  Kineo,  add  an  element  of  grandeur  to  the  scenery,  which 
is  enhanced  by  views  of  the  far-away  Mount  Katahdin,  alone  in  the  eastern 
wilderness.  Civilization  has  as  yet  made  but  few  advances  into  this  wild 
land,  and  the  shores  are  almost  entirely  in  their  original  and  primeval 
solitude. 

It  is  a  pleasant  voyage  by  steamboat  from  the  southern  end  of  the  lake 
to  Kinco,  a  distance  of  twenty  miles.  From  abreast  of  Burnt-Jacket  Cliff, 
the  great  Squaw  Mountain  comes  into  sight,  on  the  west,  and  White  Cap 

peers  over  the  east- 
ern woods.  Then 
the  course  lies  be- 
tween the  large 
Deer  and  Sugar 
Islands,  and  so 


emerges  x  *  ,  ,. 

0  n      t  h  e         %•     '     '"?, 
broadest  part          /J  / 

of     the     lake,  ^  x  '  r'.± 

stretching  from  Spen-         ''/•:,. 

cer  Bay  to  the  Kennebec          V|'.jX-, 

1  >am,    at    the    outlet.      Over        %>. 
tlie  bay  loom  the  dark   Spencer 
Mountains,   sometimes   ascended   by 
adventurous  woodsmen  ;  and  a  glimpse  of 
blue    Katahdin   is  gained,  in   the  remote  dis- 
tance.    Then   bold   Kineo  appears,  far  up  along 

the  shining  waters;  and  in  a  short  time  the  happy  inland  vi 
and  we  reach  the  comfortable  and  fashionable  hotel,  the  sun 
this  vast  natural  park. 


There  are  many  other  interesting  lakes  in  this  northern  region, —  Sebec. 
with  its  four  leagues  of  bright  waters:  <  Miawav.  abounding  in  ti-h  :  Hebron, 
mar  the  great  slate-quarries  of  Monson;  and  scores  of  nther^.  cai  h  with  it< 
summer-quota  of  visitors.  The  best  of  guides  and  equipments  maybe  found 


at  Greenville,  Kineo,  Sebec,  and  other  outposts  of  civilization  on  the  edge  of 
the  immense  northern  wilderness. 

There  are  summer-hotels  at  Greenville,  near  the  southern  end  of  the  lake ; 
at  West  Cove,  near  by,  where  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway  intersects  the 
Bangor  &  Piscataquis  Railroad ;  at  the  Outlet,  where  the  Kennebec  flows 
away  to  the  south-west ;  on  Deer  Island ;  at  North-East  Carry ;  at  the  foot  of 
Mount  Kineo  ;  and  up  in  Lily  Bay.  The  score  of  trout-ponds  around  Green- 
ville, the  ascent  of  Squaw  Mountain  and  others  of  the  lakeland  peaks,  the 
canoe-voyage  up  forest-bound  Moose  River,  the  quiet  old  forest-inn  at  Roach 
Pond,  the  lovely  Brassua  Lake,  the  water-lilies  and  sandy  beaches  of  Lobster 
Lake,  the  manifold  attractions  of  Matangomook,  Aboljackarmegas,  Neso- 
wadnehunk,  Seboomook,  Allagash,  Pongokwahemook,  and  hundreds  of  other 


KATAimiN,    FROM    NORTH    P.AY    (MOOSKIIEAD). 

famous  places  for  camping  and  fishing  and  hunting,  arc  minutely  described 
and  illustrated  in  Iltibbard's  capital  "Guide  to  Moosehead  Lake  and  North- 
ern Maine,"  and  the  same  scholarly  writer's  "Woods  and  Lakes  of  Maine," 
which  may  be  procured  in  Boston. 

Moosehead    Lake   is   reached   by  the    Pullman   express   from   Boston   to 
Bangor,  whence  the  Bangor  &  Piscataquis  Railroad  runs  to  the  lake. 


89 


CHAPTER    XX. 


FRONTIER     FISHING. 

THE  MIRAMICHI  AND  RESTIGOUCHE. —  THE  ST.  JOHN  RIVER. —  THE 
SOUTH-WEST  MIRAMICHI. —  THE  TOIUOUE  RIVER. —  GRAND  FALLS. — 
EDMUNDSTON.  —  THE  FISH-RIVER  LAKES. —  TEMIXOUATA  LAKE. — 
CABANO  LAKE. —  THE  AROOSTOOK  COUNTRY. 

THE  railway  route  running  eastward  from  Bangor  gives  access  to  a  region 
which  is  rich  in  opportunities  for  the  hunter  and  fisherman.  From 
Olamon,  the  lovely  Nicatous  Lake  is  reached;  from  Enfield,  you  go  in  to 
Coldstream  Pond;  Winn  is  the  station  for  Duck  Lake ;  and  from  Mattawam- 
kcag  stages  run  to  many  places  in  north-eastern  Maine.  Vanccboro'  is  the 
point  of  departure  for  the  trout-fishing  on  the  St.  Croix  and  the  Chiputneti- 
cook  Lakes.  Around  to  the  southward,  by  McAdam  Junction  and  Calais,  is 
the  great  network  of  the  Schoodic  Lakes;  and  from  St.  Andrews  opens  the 
famous  fishing-region  of  Lake  Utopia  and  the  connected  waters.  From  St. 
John,  a  short  run  by  steamer  across  the  Bay  of  Fundy  leads  to  Digby  and 
Annapolis,  and  the  entrances  to  the  great  interior  wilderness  of  Nova  Scotia, 
a  land  of  beautiful  lakes  and  forests  and  highlands,  abounding  in  all  kinds  of 
game  and  fish.  Northward  from  St.  John,  daily  steamboats  ascend  the 
pleasant  St.  John  River  in  seven  hours  to  Fredericton,  the  "Celestial  City," 
the  capital  of  New  Brunswick,  and  the  scat  of  its  University  and  Anglican 
Cathedral.  The  railway  running  thence  to  Chatham  gives  access  to  the 
famous  salmon-fishing  streams  of  the  Miramichi,  especially  in  the  vicinity  of 
Boicstown.  The  famous  sea-trout  of  Tabusintac  may  be  sought  from  New- 
castle. The  Intercolonial  Railway  runs  north  to  P>at  hurst,  another  favorite 
centre  for  sportsmen,  near  the  Tete-a-Gauche  and  Nepisiguit  Rivt-rs  and 
other  capital  places  for  salmon-fishing.  The  Caraquct  Railway  runs  east- 
ward to  Caraquct  and  Shippegan,  on  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  through  a 
picturesque  Acadian  country,  abounding  in  tish  and  game. 

Still  noithward,  on  the  Intercolonial  line,  and  we  come  to  the  scapoit  of 
Dalhousie,  where  the  Restigouche  River  enters  the  Bay  of  Chaleur.  This  is 
beyond  question  one  of  the  finest  salmon  streams  in  the  world,  and  hundreds 
of  scientific  anglers  follow  its  shining  course  every  season. 

The  entire  frontier  of  New  I!runswick  is  lined  with  capital  fishing-regions, 
which  may  be  reached  by  the  lloston  <i  Maine  and  Maine  Central  Railroads 
to  McAdam  [unction,  and  thence  by  the  New-Brunswick  Railway,  north  or 
south. 

The  River  St.  John,  (lowing  for  four  hundred  and  tiftv  miles  in  Maine 
and  New  I!runswick,  illustrates  the  development  ot  Canadian  i  i\  ili/ati<>n, 


go 

from  the  Indian  wigwams  and  canoes  on  its  upper  waters  to  the  quaint 
Acadian  hamlets  of  theMadawaska  region,  the  scattered  farms  of  the  English 
pioneers  farther  down,  and  the  prosperous  and  modern  commercial  city  at 
the  mouth,  with  its  great  shipping. 

The  celebrated  fishing-grounds  of  the  South-west  Miramichi  are  reached 
from  Kent  station,  by  a  good  road  leading  in  eight  miles  to  Glassville,  and 
seven  miles  farther  to  Foreston,  and  nine  miles  (by  carriage  or  canoe)  to 
McEwan's,  at  the  Forks,  where  guides  and  boats  are  found.  There  are 
many  salmon  and  trout  hereabouts,  with  teai  and  black  duck  around  the 
lakes,  and  partridges  and  caribou  in  the  woods.  From  the  Forks,  the  stream 


TOniQUF.   NARROWS. 

may  be  descended  for  sixty-eight  miles  to  Boiestown,  on  the  Northern  & 
Western  Railway. 

The  Tobiquc  River  is  the  most  picturesque  stream  in  this  region,  with 
its  red  cliffs  and  far-away  blue  mountain-walls.  It  abounds  in  trout,  tulndi, 
salmon,  and  other  gamcy  and  valiant  fish.  The  village  of  Andovcr  is  on  the 
St.  John,  and  the  New-Brunswick  Railway;  and  two  miles  above  is  an  ancient 
Catholic  colony  of  two  hundred  Miliccte  Indians,  where  the  best  guides  and 
canoes  are  obtained  for  the  ascent  of  the  Tobique,  through  the  Narrows, 
between  rocky  cliffs;  to  the  Red  Rapids,  twelve  miles  up;  and  the  Forks, 
sixty  miles  up.  This  is  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness,  inhabited  only  by 
moose  and  bears.  Two  days'  navigation  above  is  Nictaux  Lake,  imbedded 


92 

in  spruce  and  cedar  woods,  and  overlooked  by  the  high  Nictaux  Mountain. 
A  three-mile  carry  leads  to  Nepisiguit  Lake,  whence  we  may  descend  the 
Nepisiguit  River  to  the  Bay  of  Chaleur.  The  Campbell  River  may  be 
ascended  from  the  Forks  to  Tobique  Lake,  four  miles  long,  whence  a  two- 
mile  carry  leads  to  Long  Lake,  eight  miles,  and  a  nine-mile  portage  goes 
thence  to  the  upper  waters  of  the  South-west  Miramichi. 


C1KAND    FALLS,    N.ll. 

At  Orand  Falls,  close  to  the  village  and  station  of  the  same  name,  the 
St.  John  River  makes  a  noble  plunge  of  seventy-five  feet,  with  a  current  three 
hundred  feet  wide,  and  thunders  down  between  black  and  spray-wet  cliffs 
into  a  great  whirlpool.  Around  and  below  this  point  the  guests  of  the  sum- 
mer-hotel in  the  village  visit  the  Wells,  Pulpit  Rock,  the  Coffee  Mill,  the 
Cave,  and  other  interesting  places,  bordered  by  the  swirling  expanses  of  white 
water.  In  this  vicinity  is  some  of  the  finest  scenery  in  Canada. 


Edmundston,  on  the  New-Brunswick  Railway  and  the  St.  John  River,  is 
a  capital  point  of  departure  for  fishermen,  being  handy  to  the  famous  Green 
River,  the  Squatook  Lakes,  the  Fish-River  Lakes,  and  other  well-known 
fishing-grounds.  It  is  a  plain  little  village,  near  the  centre  of  the  extensive 
Acadian  and  Catholic  settlements  on  the  Upper  St.  John,  in  a  country  of 
considerable  natural  beauty. 

The  Eagle  and  Fish-River  Lakes  afford  very  good  sport  to  the  fisherman. 
They  arc  reached  by  rail  to  Edmundston,  whence  a  road  leads  in  seven 
miles  to  Frenchville,  on  the  Maine  side  of  the  St.  John  River.  A  five-mile 
road  runs  thence  to  Long  Lake,  whence  the  canoeman  can  traverse  a  chain 
of  lonely  lakes,  with  uninhabited  shores,  for  a  day  and  a  half's  journey. 
These  include  Mud,  Cross,  Square,  Eagle,  and  Neddeau  Lakes,  all  of  them 
abounding  in  large  trout  and  tuladi,  especially  near  the  mouths  of  the  cold 
inflowing  brooks  and  in  the  thoroughfares  joining  the  lakes.  From  Xed- 
deau,  the  canoe  descends  Fish  River  to  the  old  border  stronghold  of  Fort 
Kent,  and  down  the  St.  John  to  Edmundston.  The  trolling  in  the  Fish- 
River  Lakes  is  full  of  excitement,  and  sixteen-pound  tuladi  have  been  caught. 
Occasionally,  a  bear  or  caribou  looks  out  from  the  woods.  The  best  time 
for  fishing  here  is  from  mid-June  to  late  summer.  Ten  days  makes  a  good 
trip.  Xavier  Burgoin,  Frenchville,  Madawaska,  Me.,  furnishes  canoes  and 
guides. 

Temiscouata  Lake  is  a  beautiful  highland  loch,  six  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  winding  for  twenty-seven  miles  among  the  highlands,  with  deep 
water,  abounding  in  salmon-trout  and  perch,  and  numerous  influent  streams 
and  dependent  lakes,  where  good  trout-fishing  is  found.  The  Madawaska 
River  can  be  ascended  by  steam-launch  from  Edmundston  to  the  head  of  the 
lake,  a  distance  of  nearly  fifty  miles.  The  Temiscouata  Railway  follows  the 
lake-shore  its  entire  length,  on  the  way  from  Edmundston  to  Riviere  dti 
Loup.  Many  years  ago,  this  sequestered  water  was  guarded  by  a  garrison 
of  redcoats,  in  Fort  Ingalls,  one  of  the  line  of  fortresses  joining  Oiicbcc  and 
Halifax.  Hut  the  jolly  grenadiers  have  departed,  many  years  ago;  and  near 
the  site  of  their  old  camp-ground  is  the  pleasant  Krcnch  hamlet  ol  Notre 
Dame  du  Lac,  whose  angelus  bells  sound  sweetly  over  Temiscouata  every 
evening.  ( >ne  of  the  best  excursions  in  the  neighborhood  is  along  the  Squa- 
took lakes. 

Cabano  Lake  is  twenty-seven  miles  from  Edmundston,  fifteen  by  road  up 
the  St.  folm,  tour  up  Caron-Hrook  Valley,  four  across  Maker  Lake,  and  four 
by  portage.  It  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water,  tourteen  miles  long,  \\ithoiit  a 
single  house  or  clearing,  and  bordered  by  heavy  hardwood  ton-st.-*  and 
high  hills.  The  trout  and  tidadi  (salmon-trout)  of  these  lake>  are  fanum-  for 
their  number  and  si/e,  and  afford  excellent  sport.  The  outlet,  of  ('abano 
runs  down  to  Lake  Temiscouata  in  twenty  miles,  \\ith  two  or  thiee  >hort 
carries.  A  three-mile  portage  leads  from  Cabano  to  the  St.  Franci>  River, 
which  may  be  descended  (through  Mean  I.ake  and  (Ila/ier  Lake)  in  twenty- 
five  miles  to  the  St.  fohn,  thirty  five  miles  above  Fdmundston.  and  .ill  plain 
sailing. 

The  celebrated  Aroostook  Country,  one  of    the  be>t    farming-legions   of 


94 

New  England,  is  entered  by  the  New-Brunswick  Railway,  Houlton,  its  shire- 
town,  being  reached  by  an  eight-mile  branch  from  Debec  Junction,  and 
Caribou  and  Presque  Isle  being  on  another  branch,  leading  westward  from 
Aroostook. 


Amid  the  glens  of  the  Appalachian  highlands,  beginning  away  down  in 
the  Gulf  States,  overspreading  Northern  New  England,  and  sinking  down 
into  the  highlands  about  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  there  are  scores  of  beau- 
tiful lakes,  whose  titles  even  cannot  be  mentioned  here.  Merry-meeting, 
Massabesic,  Caspian,  Ossipee,  Massawippi,  Dunmore,  Province,  Bomaseen, 
Newichawannock, — their  names  are  rich  in  aboriginal  melody  or  legendary 
association,  and  bear  pleasant  suggestions  to  the  thousands  who  frequent 
their  shores,  in  the  restful  summer-time.  In  these  quiet  landscapes,  rich  in 
immeasurable  verdure,  and  lighted  by  the  blue  and  silver  of  the  highland 
waters,  there  is  a  peculiar  restfulness,  very  grateful  to  the  weary  citizen,  and 
not  without  charm  even  for  the  habitual  idler.  The  telephone  and  fire-alarm 
and  ticker  and  ledger,  far  away  in  the  sun-scorched  towns,  are  forgotten,  and 
the  sights  and  sounds  of  rural  life  happily  replace  them.  And  so,  drifting 
down  sylvan  streams  and  unknown  rivers,  or  dreaming  by  the  side  of  lapsing 
ripples,  we  may  enter  the  confines  of  a  new  life,  and  store  up  reserves  of 
strength  for  the  coming  days. 

Bring  us  the  airs  of  hills  and  forests, 

The  sweet  aroma  of  birch  and  pine, 
Give  us  a  waft  of  the  north  wind,  laden 

With  sweet-brier  odors  and  breath  of  kine ! 

Lead  us  away  in  shadow  and  sunshine, 

Slaves  of  fancy,  through  all  thy  miles, 
The  winding  ways  of  Pemigewasset, 

And  Winnipesaukee's  hundred  isles. — WHITTIER. 


95 


INDEX. 


Allan  Estate   .     .     .     . 
Allerton  Lodge   . 

PAGE                                                                  PAGE 
.     64     Camp  Bemis  79 
78     Camp  Caribou     ....     72 
.     68     Camp  Chocorua       ...     39 

Fort  Point       20 
Franklin     49,  52 

Alton  Bay       .     .     .     . 

20,  13     Canterbury     14 
>  90,  79     Caraquet    89 

Androscoggin  Lake 
Androscoggin  River    . 
Annanance,  Mount 
Aroostook  Country 
Ashuapmouchouan  Ri\ 
Asquam  Lake 

84     Caribou       94 
.     80     Caribou  Lake      ....     86 
56     Carmel,  Mount   ....     73 
.     93     Carrabassett  valley       .     .     82 
er,     67     Caucomgomoc  Lake     .     .     86 
36     Centre  Harbor    .     .  28,  30,  39 

Gardner's  Island       ...     46 
Garnet  Hill     28 
George's  Mills    ....     46 
Georgeville      65 
Gibraltar  Point    ....     65 

Auburn,  Lake 
Ausable  Chasm   . 

.     84     Chain  Lakes  82 
.     55     Chamberlain,  Lake       .     .     86 

Grafton  Notch     ....     80 
Grand  Falls    91 

Bali!  Mountain    . 
Basin  Harbor 

78     Chatham     ....                89 

54     Chesuncook,  Lake  ...     86 

(  litcnville                                   88 

Bay-View  Park   .     .     . 
Beach  Hill 

64    Chiputneticook  Lakes      .    89 

Haines'  Landing      .     .    76,  78 

Bear  Island     .     .     .     . 
Bear  Mountain    . 
Beaver  Islands    . 
Belgrade 

26     Cobbossee  Contee  Pond    .     84 
.     63     Concord      14 

Hawk's  Xest        ....      26 
Hebron       53 

26  i  Connecticut  Lakes  .     .    69,  73 
84     Coon  Pond           .     .                66 

Hero  Islands  ....    54,  55 
Highland  Lake   ....     84 
Flookset                                      14 

Hor    Mount                               56 

Berlin  Mills    . 

Houlton      .                                 94 

Bethel    .      .      . 

So     Crystal  Lake        .                      51 

Bigelow,  Mount       .     . 
Birch  Island  .     .      .      . 

82     Cnpsuptic  Lake        ...     76 
26     I  lalhonsie  89 

Indian  Rock              .                7"-', 

Ingalls's  Grove    ....     84 

Black-Cat  Hand      . 

•>fi      Dead  River                             .      S-> 

Blackev's  Cove 

'9    ->8     I  Ihmond  Isl-uid                        -4 

Jollv  Nl'uid                              -*() 

Blodgett's  Landing 
Boiestown        .      .      .      . 

.      4-',      Dix\ille  Notch                            So 

.      y.,      Domes,  The    39 
66      Dover                                              13 

Kennebago  Lake      .      .    76,  82 
Kent                                          .      90 

Bose-Bnck  Mountain    . 
Bradtord     .      . 

.      7;      Kagle  Lakes                 .            .      93 

Knieo                                      8''.    87 

Kilr-tield                                          S- 

Brattleborough    .      .      . 
Bridge-water    .      .      .      . 

(i       Fast  Pond        .                             =;i 

.      53      F.cho  Landing      ....      7. 

P.riil  -ton 

Bri-tol    .                        .      . 

52      Kdouard     Lake                      .     ».S 

'.ake  View       ....            4:, 

Broads,  The    .... 
Brome  1  ake 

.      j.(      F.ndieott  Rock     ....     34 
M.     Fnticld                                         51 

Lake  Village.      .      .35,34,14 

R.ompton   Lake  .      .      . 
Bryant's  Pond     .     .     . 

6"      Frrol  Dam                             So    70 

Leeds     .                       .            .      ?4 

71      Farmingt  in     .      .      .  7'\  13    Sj 

Liberty  Man  i      .      .      .      .      4r> 

Bugle  Cove     .     .     .     . 
Burlington 

.     78      Fish-River  Lakes     .     .     .     95 
-,     --      KJu-h  B  iv                               r  o    i.j 

Little  Sqnam  Lake  ...      40 
Long  B  iv                                 i  i 

Cabano  Lake        .      .      . 

1  01-  •  Hand.          .      .      .    2".  '14 

Camp  Asquam     . 

,     Fort  In  -alls    .                          cr. 

Lower  Mettaluk  Pond       .      71 

PA 

Magalloway  River  .     .     . 
Magog  

,)•; 
70 
66 
14 

55 

51 

86 
89 

30 
59 

13 
79 
80 
80 

40 
89 
67 

79 
64 
86 
8= 

Plattsburg       .... 
Pointe  Bleue  . 

PAGE 

.     55     Squaw  Mountains   .     . 

PAGE 

.     86 
63,  64 
.     26 
82 

Manchester     
Maquam  Bay       .... 
Maranacook,  Lake  .     .     . 
Mascoma  Lake  .... 
Mattawamkeag  .... 
Me  Adam  Junction  .     .     . 
Megantic,  Lake       .     .     . 
Melvin  Village    .... 
Memphremagog,  Lake 
Meredith   

Port  Kent  
Poverty  Hill  .... 
Presque  Isle  .... 
Prospect  Hill      .     .41, 
Prospect,  Mount      .     . 
Province  Island  . 
Pulpit  Rock   .... 
Quebec       
Rangeley  Lakes       .     . 

.     55     Steamboat  Island     .     . 
.     45     Stratton     .... 

.     94     Strong  .... 

82 

44,  59    Sugar  Loaf    . 

.     69     Sugar-  Loaf  Pond    .     . 
.     63     Sugar  River  .... 
.     57     Summit  Spring   . 
.     67     Sunapee  Harbor 
.     74     Sunapee  Lake     . 
.     80    Sunset  Hill 

.     66 
.     46 
.     84 
.     46 
•     42 
28,  38 
.     46 
.     89 
•     93 

Menimac  River       .     .     . 
Metaluk  Pond     .... 
Middle  Dam  .     .     .     .79, 
Milan    
Milton  
Minnesquam  Lake  . 
Miramichi       

Rattlesnake  Island 
Raymond  Cape  .     . 
Red  Hill    
Red  Rapids    .... 
Restigouche  River  .     . 
Richardson  Ponds  . 
Richelieu  River 
Ripogenus      .... 
Roach  Pond   .... 

.     24  !  Sunset  Peak   .... 
83  j  Tabusintac 
30,  28     Temiscouata  Lake  .     . 
.     90    Ticonderoga  .     . 

.     89     Tilton    .... 

14,  35 
82 

.     79     Tim  Pond  .... 

Mistassini  River 
Mollychunkamunk  Lake  . 
Molson's  Island  .... 
Moody  Islands    .... 
Moosehead  Lake 

.    86    Trout  Cove    .... 

•     79 
•     24 

Roberval    

.     67     Tug,  Mount  . 

Rochester  

13,  14     Tumbledown  Dick  . 

•     24 

Rock  Point     .... 

Mooselucmaguntic  Lake  . 
Moultonborough  Bay  . 
Nabby's  Island    .... 
Naples 

76 
30 
26 
84 

Round  Island 
Saguenay  River 
St.  Albans  Bay  .     .     . 

.     63     Umbagog,  Lake 
.     68     Union    
54     Union  Bridge 

80,  70 

•     M 

.     iS 

•     54 

Narrows,  The     .... 
Nashua       
Neddeau  Lake    .... 
Nepisiguit  River 

78 
14 
93 
91 

St   Gedeon 

St.  Jerome      .... 
St.  John     
St.  John,  Lake    .     .     . 

So 

.     89  !  Utopia  Lake  .... 
.     67     Valcour  Island    .     .     . 

.     89 
.     56 
g. 

Newbury    

Salem    

82     Waukawan,  Lake    . 

Newburyport       .     •     .    13, 
Newfound  Lake 

20 
s? 

Schoodic  Lakes  . 
Sebago  Lake  .... 

.     89     Webster  Lake     .     .     . 
.     83  i  Weirs    -,2, 

•     49 
14,  18 

Newport     
Nicatous  Lake    .... 
Nictanx  Lake      .... 

59 
89 

9° 

84 

Sebec  Lake     .... 
Sergeant's  Bay    . 
Seven  Ponds  .... 

87  '  Weld      .     . 

g. 

.     65     Welokennebacook,  Lak 
.     82     Went  worth,  Lake    .      . 

e       79 

22 

North-east  Carry     .     .    86, 
Notre  Dame  du  Lac     . 
Nova  Scotia   

•  ; 
89 

- 

Shaw,  Mount 
Shelburne  Point 
Shepard  Hill  .... 

32     Westmore  
55     West  Stewartstown 
.     37     White-*  )ak  Pond      .     . 

•       56 
.        69 
.       40 
.        38 

•        50 
g. 

On  a  way  Lake      .... 
Orford,  Mount    .... 

87 
66 

Shippegan       .... 
Skinner's  Island       .     . 

.     89     Willoughby  Lake     .     . 
.     64  •  Wilton   . 

.     82     Windham  .     . 

Owl's  Head    ....    63, 
Parmachenee  Lake       .    70, 
Paugus,  Lake      ...    14, 
Peaked  Hill    .      .      .      .    40, 
Peribonca  River       .     .      . 
Phillips        
Pickerel  Point     .... 
Pine  Cliff  . 

60 

34 

53 
67 
76 

59 
16 

Songo  River  .          .     . 

83     Winnecoette  Hill 

•        32 
13,    M 

35,  '4 
.     84 

South-west  Miramichi  . 
Spencer  Mountains 
Spider  Lake   .... 
Split  Rock      .... 
Spofford,  Lake    .     .     . 
Squam  Lake  .... 
Sciuaw  Cuve  . 

90,  91     Winnipesaukee,  Lake 
.     86                                          16, 
.     82     Winnisquam,  Lake 
55     Winthrop  

.     41     Wolfeborough     .     .  22, 
•     36 

.       30 

13,  M 

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